


Learning the Steps

by Blue_Five



Series: Supernatural - The Movie [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU: Titanic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Five/pseuds/Blue_Five
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Titanic AU - Castiel is resigned to living a life devoid of happiness or love until he meets a young drifter named Dean Winchester. Unfortunately, fate has brought them together on the Titanic's maiden voyage.</p>
<p>Inspired by the lovely artwork of nella-fantasiaa at DeviantArt<br/><a href="http://nella-fantasiaa.deviantart.com/gallery/36261942">Supernatural Titanic AU Art</a><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel Novak hummed to himself as he worked the clay on his wheel, creating a bowl. He'd learned long ago that clay was his favorite medium. It was malleable and could be shaped to whatever vision his imagination provided but its very nature dictated certain conditions to produce optimum results. The balance of order and chaos calmed Castiel. The hobby also served to keep his hands limber. At his advanced age, keeping his joints functioning was nearly a full-time profession.

In the kitchen just outside the sun-room, Castiel's grandson, Adam Milligan, moved around making lunch. Castiel paused his work and regarded the boy fondly. Adam was a good companion and he doted on his grandfather – too much for Castiel's liking sometimes. As much as Castiel adored his grandson, he sometimes wished he'd find his own life. Adam would hear none of it, of course. Castiel smiled and went back to shaping his bowl. The sounds of the TV drifted over the sound of his potter's wheel.

_[... hello Tracy . Of course everyone knows the familiar stories of Titanic – the nobility, the band playing as the ship went down and all that. But what I'm really interested in are the untold stories ... the secrets locked deep in the hull of Titanic.]_

Castiel lifted his head. The name of the ship had caught his attention ... he strained to hear more of the interview. Taking hold of his cane, Castiel pushed to his feet. Sparing a moment to stabilize himself, Castiel shuffled carefully forward into the kitchen. At 104, Castiel was not inclined to rush whenever he moved. Adam noticed his grandfather's sudden interest in the TV and moved around the island to make sure the old man did not fall. One broken hip was enough in a lifetime.

Piercing blue eyes seated in a face softened and creased by age stared at the flat screen mounted on the far wall. It was large enough to let Castiel see from the sun-room, but his hearing was not what it had once been.

"Adam, turn that up, please," Castiel requested.

Adam obediently raised the volume and Castiel squinted in concentration as he listened.

_[...nobody called the recovery of artifacts of King Tut's tomb 'grave robbing'. Regardless, we are taking all precautions to preserve and catalog the artifacts that we do recover. I have museum-trained experts on board for just that purpose. Take a look at this drawing that we found just today – a piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years. My team were able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity?]_

Castiel blinked as the camera focused on the drawing. It was a charcoal piece depicting a young man with dark, ruffled hair reclining on what looked to be an ornate couch. The man was nude with well-defined musculature on his slender body. The expression he wore as he looked at the artist was one of intense concentration. One hand rested near his face, the other lay flat across his chest. A ring resided on that hand – a ring with a large, unique octagon step cut stone. The ring itself was large as well since the man wore it on his middle finger. The skill of the artist had managed to bring out the facets of the stone. Castiel shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"Well ... fuck me."

Adam snorted in laughter at hearing his normally staid grandfather curse. The smile faded when Castiel turned to him and said, "Adam, get that man on the phone."

An hour or so later, Adam had somehow managed to get Castiel patched through via satellite phone to the vessel _Keldysh._ He listened on speakerphone as his grandfather insisted on talking directly to the expedition leader, Brock Lovett. Adam concealed a smirk as he heard Castiel's implacable will finally wearing down the folks on the research vessel. Adam had no doubt his grandfather could pull souls from Hell itself if he took a mind to it.

"Yes, I can hear you, Mr. Lovett. I was curious if you had located the Light of the Ocean." Castiel asked calmly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Ok, you have my attention, sir ... can you tell us who the man in the picture is?"

Castiel smiled, a mischievous light in his eyes. "Oh, yes. The man in the picture is me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel looked out the window at the ocean whisking by under the helicopter that was taking them to the _Keldysh_. He looked solemn as ever, but Adam knew his grandfather's manner by now – the old man was practically jumping up and down internally with eagerness.

"Pretty cool, huh, grandad?"

Castiel allowed himself the slightest of quirks at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, Adam. It is pretty ... _cool_."

Adam laughed and they waited together as the helicopter touched down on the ship's deck and the crew moved to help them to the vessel. Several deck hands lifted his grandfather's wheelchair to the ship and Adam jumped down behind him, taking immediate control of the chair. Castiel was greeted by Brock Lovett and shook the man's hand perfunctorily. He watched as his steamer trunks were taken off the helicopter and placed haphazardly on the deck. Castiel grunted in annoyance. This he did not find so _cool._

Adam leaned down to his grandfather's ear and said. "It'll be alright, grandad. I'll make sure everything is handled correctly."

Castiel nodded, placated for the moment. He patted Adam's hand on his shoulder in appreciation. The boy truly was a Godsend. Descended from angels, as Castiel would tease him sometimes.

As they settled into the staterooms, Castiel set out several framed photos along the dresser. Brock entered with a single announcing knock.

"Are you rooms ok, Mr. Novak?"

"Everything is fine, Mr. Lovett." Castiel assured the younger man. "These small trappings of home bring me comfort when I travel."

"Is there anything you need? Can I get you anything?"

Castiel looked up and regarded Lovett steadily. "Yes. I would like to see my drawing."

* * *

Castiel leaned heavily on Adam as he gazed into the basin where his drawing was being carefully tended. It drifted in a water bath that cast wavy shadows over the paper. Castiel's memory pulled him into the past and for a moment he could see hazel eyes looking at him. Eyes that shimmered green or golden depending on the mood of their owner. Eyes that were intent on capturing every line of Castiel's body and transferring it to paper. Castiel sighed when the harsh voice of Lovett broke into his musing.

"Legend has it that a magnificent turquoise-colored diamond was discovered in Brazil in 1725 in a riverbed." Lovett was explaining. "It was called "Heart of the River" and it disappeared a little over fifty years later ... right around the time that Spain was supporting us in the Revolutionary War. It's thought that Spain stole the diamond from Portugal to help fund their eventual entry into the war and had it cut down into smaller stones. One of those stones is the Light of the Ocean – a octagonal step-cut stone set for a man's ring."

Castiel nodded, remembering. "It was an absurdly heavy and unwieldy thing. I only wore it the one time - the band had not been sized yet." Castiel looked at the photograph Lovett had presented him. He would never forget a single line of that ring and what it stood for in his life at the time. He looked up at Lovett. "The reason it was named thusly was due to its ability to capture light and cast it back as if irradiated. I swore the thing practically glowed in the dark. Its reflections reminded one of the sun bouncing off a clear pool."

Adam, looking over his grandfather's shoulder at the drawing, frowned. "Grandad, you actually think this is you?"

Castiel returned the frown. "I do not _think_ it is me, Adam. I _know_ it is me." He paused and the mischievous grin tugged at his mouth again. "Wasn't I ... what do you call it ... a hunk?"

Lovett and Adam laughed at Castiel's dry sense of humor. Lovett decided to reveal his last card. "I tracked the ring down through insurance records – an old claim that was settled under absolute secrecy. Can you tell me who the claimant was, Mr. Novak?"

Castiel met Lovett's eyes and the treasure hunter was struck by the brilliance of the clear blue gaze. "I should imagine it would be someone by the name of Milton."

"Lucifer Milton, that's right. He was a banking tycoon. He filed the claim for a man's diamond ring that his younger sister Anna purchased for her fiancee – you – a week before she sailed on _Titanic_. It was filed right after the sinking so the diamond had to have gone down with the ship." Lovett turned toward the drawing and looked at Adam. "You see the date?"

"April 14, 1912," Adam read, looking curiously at Lovett.

From behind Adam, Lovett's colleague, Lewis Bodine, spoke up. "Which means, if your grandfather is who he says he is, he was wearin' the diamond the day the _Titanic_ sank."

Lovett crouched down in front of Castiel with a large grin. "And that makes you my new best friend."

Castiel looked at the man, amused. "Tell me, Mr. Lovett ... did you find anything else in your search?"

Lovett directed Adam to bring his grandfather over to a velvet covered table laid out with several different items. "Here's some of the things we recovered from your stateroom."

Castiel looked over the items, remembering. A lone cufflink, a sterling shaving cup, even a tortoise shell comb lay as if new on the black cloth. He shook his head.

"Extraordinary ... they look just as they did the last time I saw them." Castiel said softly. He picked up a monogrammed silver cigarette case and smiled. "Luc _hated_ my smoking habit." The memory brought with it another image of a broad grin and those bright hazel eyes framed by dark lashes. Castiel sighed with sudden emotion.

"Mr. Novak ... are you ready to go back to _Titanic_?" Lovett asked.

Castiel looked up, smiled and nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how to warn for the suggested relationship in this chapter, but you can be assured it is not consensual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel stood and looked at the bank of monitors showing the videos taken by Lovett's submersibles. The ghostly outline of the ship loomed out of the darkness. Castiel remembered the bow when it was new and shining in the Southampton sunshine. He watched as another video illuminated the delicate framework of a door. It reminded him of the doors that led to the grand staircase but it could have led anywhere. Closing his eyes, Castiel could almost hear the soft rumble of conversation in the dining hall and smell the sumptuous food served there. The memory was intruded upon by a sudden vision of water crashing through a door and surging over him. Castiel opened his eyes with a gasp and wavered on his feet.

"Grandad! Ok, that's it … he needs to rest—" Adam began.

Castiel shook his head firmly. "No, Adam, I'm fine. I can do this."

"Grandad –"

"Stop! I am fine, Adam. Thank you. Please just help me to my chair." Castiel said, softening his voice. He knew his manner was often taken as rude and abrupt, but he did not want his grandson to think his actions weren't appreciated. "Now then … a little water and I believe we can get underway."

Adam brought him a glass and after a moment, Castiel took a deep breath. "It's been so many years since I saw her …"

"It's alright, Mr. Novak," Lovett interrupted. "Just do the best you can."

Adam smirked as his grandfather fixed Lovett with his "angel of wrath" expression. "Mr. Lovett, do you wish to hear this or not?"

Lovett and his colleagues looked abashed and settled back to listen as Castiel gathered his thoughts once again and began his tale.

"It has been so many years since I saw her, but I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in ... _Titanic_ was called "The Ship of Dreams". And it was – it really was." Castiel said with a smile. His eyes grew distant as those days slipped gently back to the fore of his memory and he was transported to a Southampton dock where the grandest ship of her kind awaited her send-off …

* * *

Castiel rode in tense silence with his fiancée and her brother. His own elder brother, Michael, sat beside him as they drove to the dock. Exiting the vehicle once they'd stopped, Castiel turned and offered his hand to Anna, his wife-to-be. She smiled demurely and stepped down beside him. They all paused to look at the ship towering over them. Castiel, not of a mind to be gracious at that moment, sniffed and remarked, "Honestly, I don't see what all the fuss is – it doesn't look any larger than the Mauritania."

Unfortunately named Lucifer "Luc" Milton, barked out a laugh. "Ah, Castiel … forever blunt in your assessments. I assure you, this ship is over a hundred feet longer than the _Mauritania_ and far more luxurious." Luc turned to Castiel's brother, Michael. "Your little brother is far too hard to impress."

Michael's mouth quirked sideways in an approximation of a smile. He made a mental note to remind Castiel, yet again, of how a Novak was expected to act. He looked up at the vessel. "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable?"

"It is unsinkable!" Luc exclaimed. "God himself could not sink this ship!"

Castiel looked annoyed. "Let's hope He doesn't take you up on the challenge, Luc," Castiel said.

With that, he turned with Anna on his arm and proceeded up the ramp to the First-Class passenger entrance. Castiel hardly noticed the sea of humanity surrounding the boat. He walked like a man who is well-aware of his place in society and had expectations to match. Castiel and Anna were greeted as they boarded and directed to a steward who would escort them to their rooms. They greeted various acquaintances as they walked the halls, pausing to speak with some of them as was considered proper in their rigid society.

Eventually, they arrived at their staterooms and Castiel allowed Anna and her maids to proceed in overseeing the unpacking of their belongings. Castiel stepped into his own room and looked around at the paintings he had purchased over the past year as they traveled through Europe. Monet, Seurat, Degas, Van Gogh … he loved the use of color to evoke emotion. Collecting paintings was a favored hobby of his and one, miraculously, that Michael allowed. Castiel could lose himself in their beauty and momentarily forget his own fate. Luc appeared, jarring Castiel from his thoughts.

"Ah, there you are," Lucifer said chuckled at the paintings leaning against whatever surface would hold them. "Not those finger paintings again. They certainly were a waste of money."

Looking down at a Degas, Castiel murmured, "The difference between our taste in art, Luc, is that I have some."

Luc's eyes narrowed. No one was in the room and so he walked across to Castiel and ran his fingers down Castiel's jawline. Castiel glared at Luc and pulled away, but found his chin gripped tightly. "Ah, ah, ah … you should know better by now. We'll be home soon enough, dear Castiel and you will wed my sister as planned. Then you will be _family_ … won't that be wondrous?"

Castiel said nothing while he stared blindly at the wall over Luc's shoulder. Luc shook Castiel's jaw to force his attention back on him. Castiel endured the feeling of Luc's eyes roaming over his features. He dared not break the tableau and incur Lucifer's temper so he stood frozen as the older man's lips grazed over his own. "You'll learn to show me the appreciation that is my due, Castiel. Be assured of that."

With a final searching of Castiel's eyes, Luc released him and turned to cheerily walk out the door just as a servant entered with Castiel's steamer trunks. It was only due to years of training since he was a boy to avoid emotional outbursts that kept Castiel from giving into hopeless tears as he saw what his future life held in store.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to keep the terms/slang/events as historically accurate as I can, but if you see any errors, please feel free to call them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

At the same time Castiel was being reminded of his fate, two men boarded _Titanic_ in a manner quite different from Castiel's experience.

Dean Winchester and his brother Sam had traveled around Europe, drifting from city to city. It was a thrill and a great experience, but both of them were ready to be back home in America. During a last-minute poker game, Dean laid down a full-house and won the pot which included two tickets home on _Titanic_. Overjoyed, the boys grabbed their winnings and raced out the door of the pub.

Dean whooped with glee as he and Sam wove between the collected mob filling the docks.

"We're ridin' in high style now, Sammy! A couple of real swells!" Dean shouted as he ran. "Practically _royalty!"_

"You're crazy!" Sam yelled back.

"Maybe, but I've got the tickets!" Dean hollered over his shoulder as he put on a burst of speed. "Come on, I thought you were fast!"

They reached the 3rd Class ramp leading to _Titanic_. They were barely on time and the ship was just close enough for them to leap from the ramp to the vessel. The steward eyed them warily and looked at their tickets.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" He asked in a crisp British accent.

Dean nodded, gesturing to himself and his brother. "Of course we have – besides we don't have lice, we're American!"

The man looked at them again and then nodded. "Right, come aboard."

Laughing loudly, the brothers made their way through the maze of corridors. "Sammy, we're the luckiest sons of bitches in the world! This ship is _incredible_! Let's go up on deck," Dean exclaimed, tugging on his younger brother's arm.

Sam smiled at his brother. Dean's child-like enthusiasm for everything from pie to the recent automobile craze was infectious. His broad smile and love of life drew people to him like hapless moths to a flame. Some - mostly would-be lovers - were burned when Dean's attention shifted. Sam knew him best and he had learned long ago when to simply relax into the ebb and flow of Dean. More often than not, it landed them in some sort of trouble, but the fun they had along the way more than made up for nights on a jail cell cot.

Right now, Dean was pushing a path through to the railing of the ship facing the dock. Streamers flew through the air as the vessel pulled away and turned for the open ocean. The dock was a mob of bodies – relatives and loved ones bidding farewell to the travelers. Hands stretched from the dock to the ship and from the ship to the dock. Even though separated by distance, Sam could almost physically feel the connection. He laughed when he saw Dean's arm tracing a wide arc.

"Who are you waving at?" Sam shouted over the din.

"Does it matter?" Dean shouted back.

Sam laughed and shrugged. He began to shout to the onlookers as he waved. "Goodbye! I'll never forget you!"

Making their way below decks again, Dean and Sam found their room. Introducing themselves to the two bewildered other men, they settled into the bunk after a brotherly tussle over who got top bunk. Dean let Sam win.

* * *

The next afternoon, Sam and Dean made their way to the bow of the ship and looked out over the vast ocean. The ship glided along the water as smooth as silk. Dean pointed at dolphins racing beside the enormous ship, playing happily with this new creature in their domain. Sam stared in amazement. No, life with his brother Dean was not easy nor consistent, but it had enough joy to fill an ocean of its own.

Sam looked up at Dean who was balancing on the railing, his arms outstretched. The wind from the ship's movement blew his worn coat back from his body like a cape and Dean let out a shout to the heavens made up of pure happiness. Sam grinned like a lunatic at watching his brother embracing the freedom his life provided. Sam envied Dean that ability to let go and worry about nothing. Put in high spirits by Dean's antics, Sam leaned over the railing and shielded his eyes with his hand.

Squinting, Sam said, "Dean! I can see the Statue of Liberty!" At Dean's bewildered expression, Sam added. "It's very small of course!"

Cuffing Sam affectionately on the head, Dean jumped down from the rail and threw his arm over his brother's shoulder. "Come on, Goliath. Let's go find a place to squat." Dean teased Sam about his height but it was never cruel. It was just the way Dean shared his deeper feelings. Dean kept his surface emotions uncomplicated - the man rarely let anyone other than Sam see the layers hiding beneath. Sam wondered sometimes if Dean would ever meet anyone to draw out the Dean he knew existed beneath the mask. Sam snorted at the thought - Dean would accuse him of getting "girlie" again.

Finding an unoccupied bench, the brothers settled back to enjoy the sun and fresh air. The 3rd Class rooms were clean and nice enough, but without the windows and airflow of the upper staterooms. It was refreshing to spend time on the deck even if the air was a little brisk at times. Dean opened his ever-present portfolio and began to sketch his fellow passengers. Sam watched him for a while and then his attention drifted around to take in his surroundings.

Leaning against a rail, hunched against the wind, was a slender young man with unevenly cut blond hair. Sam noticed he had delicate features for a fellow and he kept his head mostly down as he smoked a cigarette. He brushed his long hair back and smiled at the young man.

"Nice ship, huh?"

The fellow looked up and returned the smile shyly. "Yeah ... it's an Irish ship."

"Irish? I thought it was English?" Sam asked.

Dean was only half-listening as he sketched but he grinned regardless. Sammy had a away of putting people at ease – of drawing them into a conversation. He knew full-well everything there was to know about the ship and where it had been built. Hell, _Dean_ knew almost everything by now as well after listening to Sam go on and on about it, but it was an effective way to start a conversation and so Sam pretended ignorance.

"No!" Came the high-pitched protest. "It's Irish! Fifteen thousand Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock – big Irish hands."

Sam's response was interrupted when a steward walked by with three leashed dogs. The blond man blew his lank bangs back with a disgusted huff.

"Typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shite," he said.

Dean chuckled and looked up from his drawing. "That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things."

"As if we could forget," the boy said. He offered his hand to Dean. "Tommy Ryan."

"Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam." Dean's eyes narrowed as he assessed Tommy Ryan for the first time. He looked at his brother and saw that Sammy had come to the same conclusion. "So … _Tommy_ … what brings a nice girl like you to a place like this?"

Tommy nearly swallowed 'his' cigarette. There was a great deal of sputtering and a protest pitched an octave or two higher than before. "Wha—how did—oh Lord help me!"

Sam, once again going with Dean's flow, laid a calming hand on the girl's shoulder. "Easy … we won't tell."

Tommy raised brown eyes to look at the brothers. She sighed. "How'd you guess?"

"You stand like a girl," Dean said lightly. "So … care to explain?"

"I'm Joanna Beth Harvelle," The girl known as Tommy said with a tired smile. "My mother died when I was little and me da was long gone. I wanted to go to America to see what life I could make … but a wee girl traveling alone invites trouble. Bad enough the ones who like boys."

Dean nodded. "Stick with us, 'Tommy'. We'll take care of you."

Sam nodded in agreement. "You can stay Tommy or Joanna … whichever you prefer."

Joanna looked at them and smiled. "Call me Jo."

At that time, Dean happened to glance just beyond Jo's head to a First Class upper deck. There, leaning against the rail was a young man with dark, unruly hair. He looked so forlorn that Dean was immediately curious and studied him closer. His artist's eyes traveled over the man's body, cataloging every detail by habit. He wore a day suit of chocolate-brown. Under that was a gold brocade waistcoat and a rust colored cravat rested neatly tied beneath a precisely starched collar. Dean noted the slender hands that were crossed almost primly across each other as he looked out over the water. Dean was fascinated with the man's obviously despondent bearing. Then the man turned to look over the decks and their eyes met.

Dean had never seen eyes that blue before. They reminded him of the water off the beaches in Greece. They were stunning and mesmerizing all at once. The man blinked and turned away but after a moment, his gaze slid to the side and he turned to look at Dean again. For those few moments, all time seemed to come to a complete halt.

Dean had long come to terms with his own sexuality. It was just as open as the rest of his personality. A warm body to hold was just that - it didn't matter if it was male or female. But never in his long travels had anyone, woman or a man, captured his attention in such a total manner.

Seeing Dean's frozen gaze, Jo looked over her shoulder. She smiled. "Ah, forget it boyo. You're as like to have angels flight out your arse as get next to the like of him."

Sam blinked at Jo's casual assumption that Dean was attracted to the man. "How do you know – I mean… you don't … _care_ …?"

"Why should I? There are those would call me a harlot or even evil for walking through this world pretendin' to be a man - the same that would look the other way if I were a girl and taken against my will. Tis' hard enough in this life to go throwing love away when you find it. The Lord in heaven is judge of all, let _Him_ concern Himself with decidin' what is sin and what is not. I have more pressing matters to tend to … namely finding something to eat in all of this blessed boat." Jo said lightly.

Sam found himself impressed with Jo's calm logic. Both he and Dean knew full-well that Dean's 'predilection' was not accepted by all. It had been the cause of more than one fight and a few near misses with the law or worse. Still, Sam loved his brother and he accepted him without reservation because he knew Dean's heart was true no matter who he chose to share his bed with – he would never abandon someone he considered family or friend. Dean took the world as it came to him. Sam only wished the world would extend him the same courtesy. Sam smiled at Jo and waved his hand in front of Dean's face but his brother never blinked.

The moment between the two men was broken when another man came out on the deck and took a hard grip of the younger man's arm. Dressed as impeccably as the dark haired man, this one was tall with light gray suit and matching waistcoat. His hair was a nondescript brown, graying slightly at the edges. He had small eyes of blue, but no where as arresting as the object of Dean's attention.

Dean frowned as the newcomer gripped the other's arm in what had to be a painful grasp. There was an exchange of heated words and the lovely vision that had captured Dean's gaze jerked himself free and stalked off, leaving his accoster behind without a backwards glance.

Dean felt an inexplicable sense of triumph. He didn't think he'd easily forget the arresting young man in the brown suit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got wordier on me than I intended. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel looked at his food with little or no appetite that night in the dining room. Around the table were Anna, Lucifer, Michael and several other social notables. He only heard snippets of the conversation ... it was as if the words were drifting to him through a tunnel. Looking up at his name, Castiel smiled and responded but he wasn't consciously aware of the words he spoke. Whatever the topic was, apparently he gave a proper response – even an amusing one if judged by the polite laughter that followed. Castiel's eyes drifted back to his food and he rearranged some bits of it with his fork again before letting his attention return to a spot on the tablecloth.

Castiel tried desperately not to notice Lucifer's chair, placed surreptitiously too close to him. He did not flinch when Lucifer touched his shoulder, nor did he jerk his hand away when Lucifer's closed over his own under cover of the table. A quick rub of his thumb over Castiel's knuckles and Lucifer withdrew his hand. The touch left Castiel's hand numb as all sensation fled. He glanced over with a faint, polite smile and then looked across at his brother, Michael. Michael was intently ignoring whatever was going on between his brother and Luc. He could not, however, miss the intense glare that Castiel leveled at him.

Michael had hoped that perhaps the close quarters would curtail Luc's ... actions since there weren't as many places to hide on a ship. It was obvious from lunch, however, that Lucifer intended to press his boundaries regarding Castiel. Under cover of a dutiful older brother, Lucifer had none-too-subtly ordered for Castiel and divested him of the cigarette he'd lit up. Michael hadn't minded that so much ... Castiel knew that Michael loathed the habit in men or women, but he'd done it anyway out of spite. Castiel had responded with his usual acidic humor, embarrassing Luc and his brother before excusing himself to walk out on the deck. Anna meekly ignored the exchange and lightly shifted the conversation to other, less confrontational topics.

Michael wished she could influence his brother with her proper behavior. He winced at what their fellow guests must have thought about such a rude young man marrying into the powerful Milton clan. Mr. Ismay and Mr. Andrews had built the damn ship for heaven's sake! The woman ... Molly Brown, Michael recalled – she'd seemed to find Castiel's attitude amusing which hadn't helped matters.

Tonight, Castiel had been oddly distracted. Michael wasn't sure he liked this quiet, withdrawn version of his brother any better – it left him little indicating mannerisms to warn of an impending outburst. He tensed when Castiel lay his napkin across his plate and excused himself, citing a terrible headache from the large luncheon. It was a dig at Luc's ordering of the fat heavy lamb dish when Castiel wanted simpler fare. He bowed and took graceful leave of his fiancee and departed. Lucifer had colored briefly when Castiel had declined his friendly offer of companionship but since the refusal was phrased politely and without venom, Luc accepted it and calmed down. Michael thanked God for the small favor. He feared this was going to be a long journey.

* * *

Once free of the cloying atmosphere around the table, Castiel made his way quickly back to the staterooms. He entered and tossed the keys carelessly on a side table. He called out to his young manservant, Gabriel.

"Gabe!" No response was forthcoming. Castiel pulled his gloves off and threw them aside, heedless of where they landed. "Gabe!"

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom, Castiel's mind drifted over his situation. He felt as though he'd already been granted a vision of his future and it horrified him. An endless parade of parties and cotillions; yachts and polo matches – always the same narrow people with the same mindless chatter. It was enough to make his fabricated headache manifest with a vengeance.

Castiel saw this moment in his life as a great precipice. He stood on the edge, about to plummet into the dark abyss and no one was there to pull him back. He had no one in his life who cared enough to even try.

The thought weighed down on him until he could not breathe, even after he'd torn his tie away and let his starched collar stand open. He ripped out his cufflinks and tore off his jacket. Standing thusly, Castiel gasped in breath after breath and looked at his disheveled reflection. His hair, tamed for dinner, now stood in unruly spikes from where he'd gripped it unconsciously during his rant. Snatching up the nearest object – a silver cigarette case – Castiel hurled it at the mirror and watched in satisfaction as his reflection splintered. Then he ran from it.

* * *

Dean had left Sammy below decks chatting to a lovely blonde girl named Jessica. She was traveling to America from London after securing a job as a nanny for a prestigious family in Washington DC. Dean had seen the way Sammy's entire face had lit up when he saw her and decided to make himself scarce. Jo retreated to the relative safety of their room – she'd already moved in after the two Swedes had bunked with other newfound friends who also had empty berths.

Now, settled on one of the upper deck benches with his coat pulled close, Dean lay on his back and studied the magnificent night sky and thought about the unhappy young man he'd seen earlier. He replayed the movement of light and shadow over the man's face and vaguely wondered what it would be like to trace those lines with his fingers. He snorted in annoyance at himself and his sudden "girlie" musings. It had to be Sam's constant pressure to 'express' himself. He blew a cloud of smoke from his last cigarette and smiled, wondering what his imagined young man was doing right now.

Lost in thought, Dean was startled when heavy footfalls approached and then passed him. He pushed upright to see a slender figure in a white dress shirt and black pants stalk by his place. Dean stood and followed out of curiosity. It wasn't often one of the upper echelons displayed such emotion – something had to be seriously wrong.

Castiel stalked down the deck, ignoring the complaints and overt stares at his rude behavior and disgraceful appearance. He had one destination in mind and he would not waver from that. He continued until he'd reached the railing at the stern of the ship. Gripping the cold metal bar, Castiel looked out at the wake cast by the powerful propellers. Churned seawater frothed and bubbled in the distance until it faded away into the utter anonymous calm of the ocean. He closed his eyes and debated ever so briefly his intended action. When all he could see was Lucifer's leering expression from their arrival, he opened his eyes and decisively climbed over the barrier and sat on the top rail. He looked down into the darkness and listened to the hiss of the water as it passed beneath. He moved to stand on the lower rail and leaned out with his hands gripping the bar behind him. All he had to do was let go ...

"Don't do it," Said a deep voice from behind him.

Castiel turned and found himself staring into the same green eyes he'd seen that afternoon up on deck when he walked out of lunch. He blinked and then shook his head.

"Stay back," Castiel ordered. "Do not come closer."

Dean felt an odd flutter in his chest at the man's gravel-laden voice. Who had a voice like that? Angels? He pulled his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Come on," Dean said softly, extending his hand to the distressed man. "I'll give you a hand back over."

"No!" Castiel said with another shake of his head. He was annoyed at not being obeyed. "I will let go if you come any closer."

Dean paused and then took a long, final drag on his cigarette. He held it up and indicated that he was only going to toss the butt over the side. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and studied the jumper. "You're not going to jump."

"What?" Castiel said, bewildered and growing more annoyed with the handsome young man. "Do not presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You do not know me."

Dean smirked. "Well, if you meant it, you would have done it already."

Castiel gaped at the man. He cursed his luck at having a witness but why _this_ witness? He growled, "You are distracting me. Go away."

Dean shook his head again as Castiel turned to ponder the water. "Sorry, I can't. I'm involved now." Dean pulled off his jacket and began working at his boots. "You let go and I'm gonna have to go in after you."

"Don't be absurd. You would be killed. Most probably by the fall itself," Castiel protested. This man was the most annoying person – Castiel could take his own life, but that of another? He doubted even he could be that detached.

"I'm a good swimmer," Dean assured him. "Oh, I know it's gonna hurt. Truth is, I'm more concerned about the water being so cold."

Castiel looked at the water again, considering. He frowned and then glanced over at Dean. "H-how cold?"

"Freezing." Dean said. "Maybe a couple degrees over. You ever been ice fishin'?"

Castiel remained silent then looked around confused. "What?"

"Ice fishin' ... it's where you cut a hole in the ice ..."

"I am well-aware of what ice fishing is!" Castiel barked. Honestly, how could one human be so ... there was no other word ... _annoying_?

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry ... you just don't seem like an 'Outdoor Life' subscriber. Anyway, I fell through some thin ice when I was out with my dad and little brother. I'm tellin' you ... it was like a thousand knives stabbing me all over my body. It was water just as cold as that down there." Dean leaned on the railing a bit away from Castiel and looked into the dark ocean. "You can't breathe ... you can't think ... well, at least not about anything but the pain."

Castiel swallowed hard and looked over at Dean. The young man's profile caught him – the strong, angular lines set in a serious expression as he contemplated his next move. Castiel found himself wondering what that face would be like caught up in a laugh or how the faintly unshaven jawline would feel under his fingertips. Castiel turned back to the water with wide eyes and a blush he hoped was hidden by the dark or explainable by the cold night air.

_Am I corrupted by Luc now? I don't like men! It's not ... right ... or decent or ..._ Castiel's thoughts raced.

Dean held back a smirk. He'd seen Castiel observing him from the corner of his eye. He'd also seen him look away quickly with a blush.

_Well, well ... who would have thought ... ? Gorgeous likes what he sees over here._ Dean thought, amused.

"Regardless, I'm not lookin' forward to jumpin' in there after you but I don't got a choice," Dean said. He looked at Castiel's blue, searching eyes and held them. "I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

Castiel cleared his throat shakily, not certain of his footing in this conversation any longer. He settled for a vague insult. "You're insane."

Dean chuckled. "So I've been told, but with all due respect, buddy ... I ain't the one hangin' off the back of a ship here." Dean reached just beyond Castiel's arm. "Come on, bud. You don't want to do this."

Castiel looked down at the strong, calloused hand offered and after a moment's hesitation, he took it. He did not expect the strength he felt in the stranger's grip. He turned on the bottom rail slowly, positioning himself to climb back over. He looked up and found himself staring into the intense eyes of his savior.

_Hazel-green_ , Castiel thought, unable to look away.

Dean stared despite himself. The eyes looking back at him were so very blue. At this distance, he could not imagine a body of water in the entire world a more beautiful shade than the two pools before him now. He remembered his manners somewhere between breaths.

"I'm ... I'm Dean Winchester," he said with a smile.

"Castiel James Novak," came the response.

Dean blinked. "Gonna have to get you to write that one down." He joked with a broad smile.

Castiel's breath froze in his chest at the smile. He'd never known a person's face could light up so ... he raised his foot up to step on the next rail. He wondered about his luck again when his foot slipped off and he plummeted toward the dark, black ocean.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fiction is also posted on my FanFiction.net account for anyone interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

At first, Dean couldn't believe he was actually holding the hand of the handsome, sad-eyed man he'd seen only hours earlier. Then he felt himself jerked forward as Castiel's dress shoe slipped on the railing and he fell toward the water. Dean instinctively clasped Castiel's arm with his other hand and grunted as his midsection slammed into the rail. Castiel, suddenly dangling over the roiling water, decided that he did not want to die.

"Dean! Help!" He shouted, twisting frantically. "Help me!"

"I got you, Cas! I got you!" Dean yelled back. "Listen to me! Listen!"

Castiel looked up and met Dean's eyes. His sudden, overwhelming panic eased as he focused on those hazel-green eyes. Castiel realized this man held his life in his hands – very literally. The thought was not so terrifying.

"Cas, I've got you – I won't let go. Now pull yourself up, bud. Come on," Dean ordered, bracing himself to support Castiel's weight. He smiled and winked to help put the man at ease.

Castiel nodded and managed to get his free hand on the lowest rail. He strained to pull his body up, grateful for his habit of swimming several laps every morning. Through a series of awkward pulls and yanks, the two men managed to work together and Castiel was finally able to get his body back over the railing. Dean pulled with all his weight the last bit to assist him. They tumbled to the deck in a heap, Dean on top.

Dean looked into Castiel's wide, blue eyes and tried not to think about their bodies pressed together and their lips only inches apart. Both of them were panting with exertion and Dean did not want the moment to end. Unfortunately, Castiel's panicked shouts had alerted three crewmen on deck and they came upon the scene a moment later.

"What the bloody hell is all this?" The first crewman to arrive took in two men, one well-dressed and one dressed more commonly with the gentleman on the bottom. Immediately, he assessed Dean as the threat and advanced on him. "You stand back! You don't move an inch! Fetch the master at arms!"

Dean sighed and did as he was told, moving away from Castiel and standing with his hands shoved into his pockets. He rued his never-ending Winchester luck and waited to see what new problem he'd created for himself by helping this privileged young man. Still, looking down at Castiel's face, Dean couldn't bring himself to feel too badly about the turn of events. Despite the stricken expression currently seated there, Castiel's features were still the most gorgeous he'd seen in a long time. No, Dean couldn't feel bad at having saved those blue eyes from closing forever, no matter what happened.

* * *

Castiel sat on a bench, hunched over and sipping a brandy that Michael handed him. He was mortified. Not only was Dean accused wrongly, Castiel had no idea how he was going to explain things. If it came out what his real intent had been, Lucifer and Michael would never let him leave his staterooms alone again. Zachariah, Lucifer's valet and bodyguard, stood off to one side regarding everyone with his usual impassive expression. Nearby, Luc was railing at Dean as the Master-at-Arms handcuffed him.

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think you could dare to touch my sister's fiancée?" Luc snarled as he stood in front of Dean.

Dean eyes slid over to Castiel and Lucifer shook him to refocus his attention. "Look at _me_ , you filth!"

"Luc ..." Castiel began.

"What did you think you were doing?" Lucifer shouted at Dean.

"Luc, stop!" Castiel cried, unable to take it anymore. He moved over to put his hand on Lucifer's arm. "It was an accident!"

Luc blinked as if hearing Castiel for the first time. "What? An accident?"

"I wanted ... I wanted to see the triple propellers that are powering this vessel. I ... leant over a little too far, I'm afraid."

"Oh for the love of – Castiel! This insane need of yours to investigate everything in Creation simply must stop!"

Castiel hung his head and peered upwards through his lashes. He knew that Lucifer would not be able to resist such coyness even though it turned his stomach to play such games. "I'm truly sorry, Lucifer. It was very foolish of me. I'll be more careful, I assure you - but it wasn't Mr. Winchester's fault. He saved my life."

Michael groaned and shook his head. "Castiel, you needlessly endangered yourself and a total stranger! How do you imagine this looks?"

The Master-at-Arms turned Dean and asked him very soberly. "Was that the way of it?"

Dean glanced over at Castiel and saw the man desperately pleading with his eyes. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, that was pretty much it."

Michael sighed. "Then the boy is a hero! Good for you, son. Well done." Michael briefly wondered if that was all that had occurred, but he dared not draw any more suspicion to Castiel.

Lucifer put his jacket over Castiel's shoulders and threw a casual arm around him. Castiel fought down a shudder at the touch. "I swear, lad ... you'll be the end of me yet. We won't mention this to Anna. Her delicate constitution couldn't take the shock."

Dean listened to the exchange and noticed how stiffly Castiel carried himself under the man's arm. He recognized the man as the one Castiel had quarreled with up on the deck and wondered what the relationship there was - other than the fiancée's older brother.

As Lucifer led Castiel toward the first class sections, Michael leaned toward Luc and said _sotto voce_ , "Perhaps a little something for the boy?"

Lucifer paused and nodded. Looking at his valet, he said, "Of course. Zachariah, I think a twenty should do it."

Zachariah turned to pay Dean when Castiel huffed in disbelief. "Your sister would be a widow were it not for him!"

Again, despite the sour taste in his mouth, Castiel knew his carefully chosen words would appeal to Lucifer's ego. He was correct as Lucifer turned and smiled indulgently at Castiel.

"Hmm ... Castiel is displeased," Lucifer said softly so that no others besides themselves heard. "What to do? Ah ... I know."

Walking over to where Dean was putting his coat and boots back on, Lucifer looked at the young man with an air of dispensing a great honor. "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening and regale our group with your ... heroic tale."

Dean was greatly unimpressed but he'd put up with anything that allowed him to see Castiel again. A false smile slid into place and he nodded. "Yeah sure. Count me in."

Luc smiled coldly. "Good. Settled then." He turned and left.

Castiel met Dean's eyes sadly before he turned away and followed the two older men back into his part of the ship. Dean stood in the cold night air, wondering how he managed to get himself into these predicaments. He glanced over and whistled to catch Zachariah's attention. When the man turned, Dean asked, "Hey, can I bum a smoke?"

Zachariah held out his case and allowed Dean to take two. Snapping it shut, he gestured to Dean's untied boots. "You'll want to tie those." Dean looked down and idly tongued his cigarette. Zachariah continued. "It's interesting – the young man fell so suddenly and you still had time to take off your coat and your shoes."

Zachariah smiled thinly and walked away. Dean felt much colder than the Atlantic waters from which he'd saved Castiel.

* * *

Castiel sat at his desk, penning a letter to an old friend of the family, Sergeant Major Robert Singer. Singer had often amused a young Castiel with tales of his military life in the Marines until Michael had deemed him too old for such childishness. The man had retired to – of all socially remote locales – South Dakota. He ran a salvage yard of sorts to keep himself busy. Castiel kept in touch and was often glad of the older man's advice. He wondered if he would be able to maintain his relationship with the old soldier once he wed Anna and began life under the Milton rule. It was a depressing thought that he would not.

Distracted, Castiel did not notice Lucifer enter until the man was practically in front of him. Castiel continued addressing the envelope and folded the paper methodically while Lucifer perched on the end of the desk. Taking the pen and replacing it in the inkwell, Lucifer put his hand over Castiel's and gave it an unusually gentle squeeze. Castiel met Lucifer's eyes and was amazed to realize how shallow and empty they appeared in comparison to Dean's. He did not pull his hand away, however. Lucifer's moods were not easily discerned and he had to be cautious.

"I know ... I know you are uncertain of your place in our family, Castiel. I wanted to assure you that you will be accorded all the benefits of your position when you arrive at your new home." He placed a small box before Castiel. "Anna wanted me to present this to you at the engagement gala next week, but I thought ... perhaps tonight ..."

Lucifer opened the box and revealed a man's ring set with an unusual octagonal-shaped stone the likes of which Castiel had never seen. He blinked and reached for it involuntarily, grazing his fingertips over the smooth stone.

"Is that a -"

"Diamond? Yes." Lucifer took the ring from its velvet nest and slid it on the ring finger of Castiel's left hand. It was heavy and the band too large for Castiel's slender fingers. "Consider this my wedding gift, dear Castiel. It is a signet ring of sorts for your new place in the Milton family tree. You will wear the band Anna places on your hand here in a month, but you will know who gave you _this_ ring ... you will always know where you belong when you gaze upon it."

Castiel swallowed hard, pressing his fingers together tightly to prevent the ring from spinning on his hand. "It's ... it's too much ..."

"It is nothing compared to what I will give you, Castiel. I would deny you nothing ... if you give yourself to me completely." Lucifer's hand moved to Castiel's hair, pulling the young man's head back. Castiel felt Lucifer hesitate before lightly grazing the skin of his throat with dry lips. Castiel had to stifle the urge to moan in disgust as Lucifer's hot breath whispered against the tender skin there. "Open yourself to me, Castiel ... and the entire world is yours for the taking."

Lucifer replaced the ring in its box and left after pressing a kiss against Castiel's forehead. Castiel stared at it long into the wee hours of the morning, unable to think of anything else.

* * *

The next day, Castiel went walking on the deck after breakfast. Anna was discussing wedding plans with other women on board. Lucifer and Michael were discussing business matters as usual. Castiel was free to spend his time as he wished. He stepped out into the sun and marveled at how good it felt – as if he hadn't felt the sun in years. Castiel made a decision and walked to a small gate that descended into the 3rd class decks. He was going to find Dean Winchester.

* * *

Below decks, Dean and Sammy were sitting in the main common room for 3rd class passengers. All manner of mankind drifted together and apart around them much like the ocean they were sailing through. Dean was huddled with a chubby-cheeked little girl named Cora. He guided her hand as she drew a picture with him. Jo was holding Dean's drawings and amusing herself by trying to find the people depicted. She found several and was amazed to see the accuracy with which Dean drew his portraits. They were almost like the one photograph she'd ever seen in her life.

"These are very good, Dean ... very, very good." Jo said.

Dean looked up and smiled. "Thanks, Jo."

Cora's father came to collect her and Dean bid her farewell with a smile and a kiss to the forehead. He looked over the bench back at his brother. Sammy and Jessica had eyes for no one else in the room. Dean smiled. He was glad for Sam. Jess was sweet and lovely – she also hadn't fallen for Dean's innate charm for one second. Her lilting English accent, however, had left him grinning almost as foolishly as Sam.

Dean smiled again when he considered the fickle winds of fate and allowed his thoughts to drift to the gorgeous man he'd met the night before. Dean knew himself to be well and truly smitten with the blue-eyed aristocrat. It was a pointless fantasy to imagine that Castiel felt the same way, but Dean was nothing if not a believer in impossible situations. The steady hum of conversations around him slowly tapered off, causing Dean to look up. He could not stop the smile that tugged at his lips when he saw Castiel walking through the crowd towards him.

Outwardly, Castiel was the perfect, collected gentleman but inwardly he hated the way gazes in the room registered his presence and then lowered suddenly. Hats were tipped or pulled off and the women looked anywhere but at him. His simple, ash-gray day suit with a long beige overcoat and blue cravat might have been almost nondescript in the first-class area, but below decks it was a clear indicator of a social ranking far above that of the people in third class. People moved out of his path and for the first time, Castiel noticed. He didn't like the way it made him feel.

Dean stood as the man approached and he enjoyed the light blush coloring Castiel's neck.

"Hello, Mr. Winchester."

"Hello, Castiel ... and call me Dean."

"Might I speak with you privately ... Dean?" Castiel unconsciously used the same look he'd given to Lucifer the previous night – his blue eyes shyly meeting Dean's.

Dean's brain stuttered for a moment at the sight of Castiel's eyes looking at him through those impossibly dark lashes. He swallowed hard and then nodded, shaking himself from his stupor. He looked over at Sammy who grinned and raised his eyebrows suggestively. Dean had an idea he was going to hear about this from several quarters. He gathered his portfolio and walked out onto the deck with Castiel.

Dean did not see Jo scramble up and run over to Sammy and Jess nor did he hear the excited laughter that followed the surprised whispers. It was doubtful if he would have anyway – Dean's entire world had just shrunk to consist of one Castiel James Novak.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I struggled in this chapter with keeping Castiel from sounding like a girl. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

He was here. Castiel was here and he wanted to talk to Dean. Dean couldn't believe it possible. He'd wanted to imagine that perhaps Castiel was attracted to him as well, but he knew that his sexual proclivities probably didn't count as 'acceptable behavior' for a nice upstanding young man like Castiel. Yet, here, on the deck with Castiel walking beside him, Dean allowed himself to hope for the first time in a very long time. He continued telling Castiel about his childhood.

" … and Sammy was my only close kin in that part of the country. So we lit on out of there and haven't been back since. We're just a couple of tumbleweeds blowin' in the wind." Dean said with a chuckle. "So, Cas … we've walked about a mile around this boat deck and chewed over how great the weather's been and how me an' Sammy grew up, but I'll bet that ain't why you came to talk to me, is it?"

Dean smiled at Castiel but it faded when he saw the concerned look on the young man's face. Dean thought at first that it was due to the stares and whispers of the other first-class passengers around them. Dean figured they were quietly affronted that a lower-class citizen was walking among them. Class distinction made him tired. Castiel, however, did not seem to notice. His frown was for an entirely different reason.

"Mr. Winchester, I …"

"Dean."

" _Dean_ … I want to thank you for what you did. Not only did you save my life when you pulled me back, but you were … _discreet_ … about matters when it counted." Castiel said quietly.

Dean nodded. "You're welcome."

Castiel sighed. "I know what you must be thinking – poor little rich boy … what could he possibly know about misery or suffering?"

Dean stopped and Castiel turned to look at him. Dean met Castiel's eyes and said, "No … no, that's _not_ what I'm thinking." Dean leaned back against the rail. "What I was thinking was what could have happened to this guy that he thought there was absolutely no other way out?"

Castiel blushed and dropped his gaze. He looked everywhere but at Dean and then he strode up to stand next to Dean at the rail, looking down into the water. "It was everything … my entire world and all the people in it. I couldn't stand the inertia of my life any longer … it's like being tied to the tail of a comet – you hurtle along with no control and powerless to stop it." Castiel looked at Dean and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll be wed a month after we return to New York."

Dean felt a sudden, undefinable ache in his chest. The thought of Castiel being at someone else's side was definitely _not_ in his daydreams. "I see."

"Five hundred invitations have gone out. All of New York and Boston society will be there," Castiel said, his breath suddenly coming in short gasps as the panic set in again. "And all the while, I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up!"

"Do you love her?" Dean asked softly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your fiancée … do you love her?"

Castiel's blush deepened and he straightened his waistcoat with a sharp tug. "You're being rude, Dean. It's none of your concern how I feel about my fiancée."

"Well, it's a simple question … do you love her or not?" Dean asked.

"This is an inappropriate conversation," Castiel protested, pursing his lips and looking away from Dean's damnably gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Why can't you answer the question, Cas?"

Castiel huffed and took a few steps away from the railing. "This is absurd. You do not know me and I do not know you and we are not having this conversation."

Dean smiled slightly and decided that flustered Castiel was probably one of the most adorable things he'd ever seen. Castiel continued his tirade.

"Honestly, how can one person be so … _annoying_?" Castiel cried. "You are rude, uncouth, and presumptuous and … and I am leaving now."

Castiel held his hand out to Dean who shook it, amused.

"Dean … Mr. Winchester, it's been a pleasure. I sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you …"

"Aaaand you've insulted me," Dean smirked.

Castiel blinked. "Well, you deserved it!"

"Of course I did," Dean nodded, noticing that Castiel was still shaking his hand.

"Precisely," Castiel replied, noticing that he couldn't seem to stop shaking Dean's hand.

"I thought you were leaving?" Dean asked innocently as they continued to shake hands.

Castiel jerked his hand away. "I am. You are so annoying!"

Dean smiled as he watched the man walk away; knowing that it would hit Castiel in a moment that he was actually in the correct area of the boat and it was Dean that should be leaving. He grinned even more broadly when Castiel stopped suddenly and smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. He turned on his heel and stalked back over to Dean.

"Wait! I don't have to leave. This is my part of the ship. _You_ leave!" Castiel ordered, his hand pointing the way to the gate.

Dean laughed. " _Now_ who's being rude, _Mister_ Novak?"

Castiel winced at the use of proper address. It sounded wrong coming out of Dean's mouth. He floundered for a moment and then, seeking a distraction from his losing position in the debate, grabbed Dean's portfolio from the crook of his arm.

"What is this stupid thing you carry with you everywhere?" Castiel began to flip through the pages. He looked up at Dean. "Are you an artist or some such?"

Dean smiled as Castiel frowned down at the sketches and then looked back at him, a puzzled expression on his face. He followed Castiel over to an empty row of deck chairs and sat beside him.

"These … these are quite good, Dean," Castiel said, the tone of quiet admiration obvious in his voice.

Dean sat quietly while Castiel began to turn the pages slowly. He didn't know why but he desperately wanted to know Castiel's opinion of his work. It had never bothered him before – he didn't draw for other people's approval, but he found himself wanting to hear what this man thought.

"Dean … this is _exquisite_ work," Castiel said in wonder.

"They didn't think much of them in gay old Paree," Dean said. Hearing Castiel's praise, however, made any critique in the world seem completely insignificant at that moment.

Castiel looked over at Dean. "Paris!"

Dean nodded. Castiel looked politely astonished. "You do get around for a – I mean … a person of, um, limited means …"

Dean laughed again at Castiel's discomfort. "You can say it, Cas – a _poor_ guy!"

Castiel blushed again but he did not respond. The next few pages were nudes … mostly male. His eyebrow went up. "Well well well … these were drawn … um, from life?"

Dean nodded. Castiel lowered the portfolio's cover as a passenger walked by. Dean smiled, knowing how it would look for someone of Castiel's rank to be looking at such things.

"Well, that's one of the good things about Paris – lots of models willing to take their clothes off."

Castiel glanced over at Dean in shock, and then chuckled. He looked down as a particular man began to figure into the sketches. This man was drawn clothed mostly but occasionally he had his shirt or shoes off. His hair was longer than most men preferred it but on his slender frame, it looked right somehow. Castiel could tell the man was tall and he was obviously well-read because most of the pictures had him concentrating on a book or writing. The drawings reflected tenderness toward the subject that wasn't apparent in the other male sketches. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Castiel could not immediately decide what.

"You liked this man … you've used him several times." Castiel said quietly. He smiled. "Perhaps you had a love affair with him?"

Dean chuckled. "No … no affair, I promise you. That's my brother, Sammy. He's easy to draw because once he gets his head in a book, you can't budge him. But see? He's got this long frame but he always manages to make it look graceful. Don't tell him I said that ... I'll deny it to the grave."

Castiel looked at Dean as he talked about his craft. He watched as Dean's face lit up with the passion of his art. It was a sight that Castiel wanted to see more often. He looked down as Dean indicated a drawing of an older woman sitting at a bar with a glass of wine. She was dressed in a large coat with several pieces of jewelry adorning her. Dean smiled wistfully.

"This lady ...she sat at this bar every night wearing every piece of jewelry she owned. She was waiting for a long-lost love. I called her Madame Bijou." Dean ran his fingers over the lines, remembering the moment exactly. "See? Her clothes are all moth-eaten."

Castiel looked at Dean and smiled. "You have a gift, Dean, you truly do. You see people."

Dean met Castiel's eyes and said, "I see _you_."

Castiel grinned. "And?"

"You wouldn't have jumped."

Castiel's smile faded.

* * *

Castiel listened to Dean talk about the myriad jobs he'd worked during his travels. It was fascinating since Castiel had never had reason to hold any sort of employment. Despite all his advantages, he felt oddly lacking next to Dean.

"I worked on a squid boat in Monterey and then went to the Santa Monica pier in Los Angeles and sold portraits for 10 cents apiece."

"Why can't I be like you, Dean?" Castiel sighed. "Why can I not just head into the horizon whenever I feel like it?"

Dean chuckled. "What's stopping you?"

"Therein lies the story, Dean." Castiel said with a sad chuckle. He turned to Dean with a smile. "Say we'll go there sometime ... to that pier. Even if we only ever just talk about it."

Dean grinned and shook his head. "No, we'll go! We'll drink cheap beer and ride on the roller coaster until we throw up. Then we'll ride horses on the beach ... right in the surf! Just like real cowboys!"

"I am an accomplished rider, Dean." Castiel said. The picture that Dean was painting in his imagination was vibrant and he found himself wanting to experience all of it – with Dean. "I have several trophies and I'm quite good at polo."

Dean laughed. "Ever chew tobacco like a cowboy?"

Cas grimaced. "Disgusting!" He looked sideways at Dean. "Would you be willing to show me?"

"Yep – you'll have to learn how to spit like a man, though," Dean said, laughing at the face Castiel made. He tugged on the man's arm and pulled him to a wider section of the rail. "Come on, show me whatcha got!"

Castiel resisted, looking around in fear. His blush deepened as Dean leaned over the rail, made a horrid sound in the back of his throat and spat. The phlegm arced away from the rail neatly. Dean grinned proudly and gestured to Castiel that he should do the same.

Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, Castiel gathered saliva in his mouth and spat almost delicately over the rail. Dean stared.

"That was probably the most pathetic thing I've ever seen," Dean remarked, then clapped Castiel on the shoulder and turned back to the rail. "Now do it again … like this …"

Dean made a sound that was like some animal grunting and spat out a larger wad of spit. Castiel laughed and tried again and before long they were laughing at each other's efforts. It was during one of Dean's louder hawking noises that Castiel stiffened and began to tug surreptitiously on Dean's sleeve. His brother Michael walked up with a woman on each arm. Castiel recognized Molly Brown immediately and the other lady was his fiancée, Anna. Dean finally noticed Castiel's desperate jerking on his arm and turned to face the newcomers with a startled grin.

"Hello, Michael. You remember Mr. Winchester?" Castiel said smoothly, knowing he was going to catch all manner of hell for this transgression. "Ladies, may I present Dean Winchester … he was of some assistance to me yesterday and will be joining us for dinner this evening."

Dean's charm easily won over the two women even after he quickly wiped away the spit on his chin. He was struck by how much Mrs. Brown reminded him of a woman named Ellen who ran a roadhouse back home. Ellen had been a great source of support to Dean after his parents had died and he'd been completely responsible for Sammy. It made his smile that much more genuine when he looked at Molly.

Michael was beside himself with anger, but as a Novak, he was well-trained to hide it. Castiel was endangering everything they'd worked to achieve with his little schoolboy crush. Michael had no doubt that Dean Winchester was interested in his brother – he'd seen the man's body language as they approached the pair unseen. It made his stomach twist.

Michael might have been aware of Lucifer Milton's … dalliances … but they were only rumor and Castiel was marrying the man's sister. His upbringing did not allow him to examine too closely the true motivation behind Luc's willingness to save the Novak family name. If he did, Michael would be forced to admit that he was a man capable of deliberately putting his brother into the clutches of a man with perverted designs on him. Instead, Michael reasoned with himself that he was simply doing what needed to be done for the good of the family. Castiel obviously needed to be reminded that until the marriage was final, his loyalty stood with the Novak clan, _not_ with a homeless, uncultured ruffian that he'd met on a ship!

The trumpet blew sounding time for dinner. Molly rolled her eyes. "I don't know why they insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge!"

Dean chuckled and watched as Castiel took advantage of the moment to steer his brother and fiancée away. He looked back over his shoulder and said, "I'll see you at dinner tonight, Dean."

Dean waved and watched Castiel walk away, his heart pounding in his chest. He was brought back to reality by Molly's insistent efforts to get his attention. When he finally met her eyes, she regarded him with amusement.

"Son, do you have the slightest comprehension what you're doing?"

Dean grinned. "Nope."

"Well, you're about to go into the snake pit," Molly said. She looked him pointedly up and down. "What are you planning to wear?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the dinner scene - one of my personal favorites. I hope everyone is still enjoying this AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Dean was nervous. He stood at the base of the grand staircase just outside the first-class dining room in his borrowed tux. He was clean and neat as Molly Brown could make him. Dean smiled thinking of her and her kindness in taking him under wing and helping him look presentable for the 'snake pit'.

Dean was caught off-guard by how different the reactions to his presence were now that he was dressed like one of the élite. The stewards opened doors for him and called him 'sir'. There were polite nods of heads in his direction but no frowns or disdainful looks. What a difference a tie made, apparently.

Dean stood in awe of the enormous dome overhead and the intricately carved banisters and railings. The clock at the top of the stairs was amazing in its detail. A waltz drifted in from the dining area creating a calming atmosphere that blanketed the soft conversations being held along the stairwells and lobby below. It was a far cry from the plain, noisy, and crowded third class common areas.

Dean leaned against one of the pillars; arms crossed and watched the couples on their way to dinner. He observed the way the gentlemen stood and straightened, with one arm behind him. They strolled by, casually acknowledging him. He watched for more formal mannerisms and was practicing them when he heard a familiar voice.

Lucifer was descending the stairs with his younger sister on his arm and Michael beside him. They were chatting away about some inconsequential matter Dean didn't quite catch as he approached them. Both Michael and Luc flicked their eyes in Dean's direction but they did not register his face and their attention was immediately pulled away by another couple that had just walked up. Dean's greeting died in his throat as he stood there, amused at not being seen.

Castiel paused at the top of the stairs and looked down at Dean. He was astonished at the transformation. Even more astonishing was the way his heart leapt at the handsome young man. Castiel smiled slightly and descended, willing Dean to look his way.

Dean glanced toward the stairs and then did a double-take as he saw Castiel coming down them. They were dressed similarly but for some reason, Dean thought he'd never seen anything quite as good-looking as the dark-haired young man looking at him. The blue eyes were intent on Dean and for the life of him, the elder Winchester could not look away. Dean walked over to stand at the foot of the stairs directly in front of Castiel. The other man paused and looked at Dean, rendered momentarily speechless by the hazel eyes that twinkled back at him.

Dean bent at the waist slightly and bowed toward Castiel. Castiel laughed at the gesture. "You take to the customs as if born to them, Dean."

"Nah … just saw it in a nickelodeon once and thought it looked neat." Dean said with the wide grin Castiel had grown to adore. "Shall we go to dinner?"

Castiel returned the bow politely and they walked over to where Lucifer, Michael and Anna were still talking. Castiel laid his hand on Anna's arm gently.

"Darling? May I introduce you to Mr. Winchester?" Castiel said in a soft voice.

Anna Milton, Dean decided, was a very lovely creature. She had porcelain skin with the faintest of blushes across her cheeks. Her auburn hair shimmered in the soft lighting accenting her beautiful green eyes. She looked at Dean demurely.

"My fiancée has said much about you, Mr. Winchester. I am grateful you were available to help him during his … misstep." Anna said.

Dean smiled. "I'm glad I was available as well, Ms. Milton."

Lucifer was looking at Dean as though he'd grown another head, his eyes wide. "Winchester? Well, imagine that … you could almost pass for a gentleman!"

Dean gave a wan smile. "Almost."

Luc chuckled. "Extraordinary." He offered his arm to Anna and walked ahead to the dining area with Michael beside him. Michael cast a look back from time to time but saw nothing amiss. Castiel and Dean simply walked beside one another and drifted into the realm of the well-to-do. Descending into the dining area, Castiel gently guided Dean in the right direction with a nudge of his arm. As they paused at the bottom, Castiel stopped Dean with a hand and indicated a woman speaking with the ship's captain.

"That's the Countess of Rothes," Castiel said. Glancing around, he nodded toward a gentleman entering with a young woman on his arm. "That's John Jacob Astor – the richest man on the shjp. His wife is Anna's age and in a 'delicate condition'. You can see how they try to hide it? Quite the scandal."

Dean chuckled at this side of Castiel. It was obvious the man took glee in sharing the foibles of his social circle. Dean suspected he was discouraged from voicing a dissenting opinion more often than not. Castiel looked over the crowd to find more notables.

"That is Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress Madame Aubert," Castiel rolled his eyes. "Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with their children … of course."

Dean grinned, enjoying this glimpse behind the scenes of the rich and famous.

"Over here we have Sir Cosmo and Lucille Lady Duff-Gordon," Castiel said. He actually blushed and lowered his voice to share the next bit of detail. "She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals."

Dean laughed. A figure moved up beside him and Dean looked over to see Molly Brown smiling back at him.

"Care to escort a lady to dinner?" Molly asked, sliding her arm into Dean's.

"Certainly." Dean replied.

Castiel could not help but find Mrs. Brown refreshing. Her refusal to be hemmed in by society's rules and requirements often disturbed the status quo of the upper classes, but Molly did not seem to notice. She made her own path through life and wasn't about to be silent because some thought she should. He could see she'd taken to Dean. Of course, after knowing the man only for a few hours, Castiel could not imagine how anyone could _not_ be taken by Dean.

They strolled farther into the dining area and Molly leaned over to Dean. "Ain't nothin' to it, Dean. Remember they love money … so just pretend like you own a gold mine and you're in the club." Castiel chuckled at the wisdom of her advice. He tensed, however, when she called out to the Astors.

"Hey, Astor!"

The man turned, annoyed, but immediately put a polite smile in place. "Well, hello, Molly. Nice to see you."

Castiel shook hands with him and then gestured to Dean. "J.J., Madeline … I'd like you to meet Dean Winchester."

Madeline Astor offered her hand. "How do you do?"

"Pleasure," Dean said, shaking her hand gently.

"Hello, Dean," Astor said, taking the young man's hand and shaking it firmly. "Are you of the Boston Winchester's?"

"No, the Lawrence Winchesters, actually." Dean replied. He kept his gaze steady.

"Oh yes … yes," Astor said politely.

Castiel walked beside Dean with an unusual sense of pride. No matter how nervous Dean might have been, he did not falter. Castiel was sure the other first-class passengers assumed he was one of them – heir to a railroad fortune perhaps. Dean obviously looked like new money, but still, as Molly had said – a member of the 'club'.

Castiel showed Dean his seat and took one across the table from him. Molly sat to his right. He'd hoped that Dean could simply blend in and enjoy dinner with a modicum of fuss, but his brother Michael quickly saw paid to that idea.

"Mr. Winchester, please … tell us of the accommodations in steerage. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Michael said, drawing the attention of every person at the table.

Dean, however, never blinked. With a grin, he said, "The best I've seen, sir. Hardly any rats."

Castiel was relieved when laughter trickled around the table. He shot Michael a dark look. Lucifer chuckled and explained.

"Mr. Winchester is joining us from the third class. He was of some help to my sister's fiancée last night." Luc said softly.

"It turns out that Mr. Winchester is quite a fine artist." Castiel offered in the lull after Luc's statement. "He was kind enough to show me some of his work today."

"Castiel and I differ somewhat in our definition of fine art," Lucifer said. "Not, of course, to impugn your work, sir."

Dean waved off the statement. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Castiel gesturing with his napkin and clearing his throat. Dean quickly snatched his napkin from the plate before him as the server arrived with the caviar. Dean looked down at the array of silverware and leaned toward Molly.

"Are these all for me?"

"Just start from the outside and work your way in," Molly replied.

Castiel was listening to a conversation about the building of Titanic with some interest. He smiled and turned to Mr. Thomas Andrew beside him. "Your ship is a marvel, truly."

"Thank you, Castiel."

Dean declined the caviar offered to him with a slight grimace. "None for me … never did like it much."

Castiel smirked into his napkin. His brother, however, was determined to remind Dean of his place.

"And where, Mr. Winchester, do you live exactly?" Michael asked.

"Right now, my address is the R.M.S. _Titanic._ After that, I'm on God's good humor," Dean replied smoothly.

Michael raised an eyebrow. "And how is it that you have means to travel?"

"I work my way from place to place – tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on _Titanic_ here at a lucky hand of poker," Dean said with a smile. He glanced at Castiel. "A very lucky hand."

Colonel Archibald Gracie IV, seated just down from Dean, said loudly, "All life is a game of luck."

Lucifer shook his head. "A real man makes his own luck, Archie. Right, Winchester?"

Dean looked up and nodded. Michael looked at Dean disdainfully. "And you find that sort of rootless existence … appealing, do you?"

Castiel could have cheerfully strangled his brother in that moment. Even Molly seemed taken aback by Michael's blatant insult. Dean, however, didn't seem fazed.

"Well … yes sir, I do. I mean, I got everything I need right here with me." He patted his chest. "I got air in my lungs and a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's going to happen … or who I'm going to meet … or where I'm going to wind up."

Castiel was mesmerized by Dean's pointed look at the words. He glanced down at his plate, suddenly feeling everything in his heart was exposed to this young man who, by his own admission, "saw" people.

Dean continued. "Just the other night, I was sleeping under a bridge, and now here I am having champagne with you fine people on the grandest ship in the world." Dean held his glass up to the server. "Yeah, I'll take some more of that." Laughter circled the table again. "I figure that life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know what hand you're going to get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes." Dean tossed a matchbox to Lucifer, who was searching his pockets for a light. "Here ya go, Luc. You learn to make each day count."

"Well said, Dean," Molly offered.

"Hear, hear!" Colonel Gracie said loudly.

Castiel raised his glass, looking directly at Dean as he did so. "To making it count."

The toast was taken up by the table and Dean held Castiel's blue eyes hostage for a moment that he suddenly realized he did not want to end.

The remaining courses seemed to fly by in a blur. He wasn't prepared for Colonel Gracie to announce that the men were leaving for brandy and cigars in the smoking room. Thinking quickly, Dean borrowed a pencil and note card from Molly who smiled and wished him luck even as he stood with the other men.

Lucifer bid farewell to his sister and turned to Castiel. "Will you be joining us this evening, Castiel?"

Castiel smiled just as demurely as his fiancée had done earlier. "I believe I shall pass, Luc. You know I have no head for champagne and brandy will simply make me sleepier."

Luc frowned but nodded. "An early night, then?"

"After a short stroll through the fresh air to clear my head a bit," Castiel said. He leaned toward Anna and offered his arm. "May I escort you back to the rooms, dear?"

Anna declined politely and Castiel turned to see Lucifer talking to Dean, who'd indicated that he was going back to steerage.

"Probably best. It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing – wouldn't interest you." Luc said with a grin as he walked away, followed by his valet, Zachariah. Turning, Luc called back to Dean, "Oh but Winchester … good of you to come." He tossed Dean back his matchbox.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to Castiel. "Dean, must you go?"

"Time for me to go row with the other slaves," Dean joked. He held his hand out to Castiel. "Good night, Cas."

Castiel shook Dean's hand, disappointed. When they parted, however, he felt something tucked into his hand that hadn't been there a second ago. He blinked and unfolded a small piece of paper, using his body to hide his actions from Michael who'd glanced back to see where his little brother was in relation to Winchester. Not seeing the other, unwelcome face, Michael exhaled sharply and went to join Luc in the smoking room.

Castiel stared at Dean's scrawled message:

_**Make it count. Meet me at the clock!** _


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better way to celebrate the 4th in the US than with a party? Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel approached the grand staircase hesitantly. Glancing down at the small scrap of paper again, Castiel decided that for once he wasn't going to do what was expected of him. With a deep breath, he went up the stairs to where Dean stood, back turned to him. Castiel watched the man studying the clock and the beautiful carvings surrounding it and began to wonder just what the hell he thought he was doing when Dean turned. His face blossomed into a broad smile and Castiel's concerns melted away.

"So, Cas – you wanna go to a real party?"

* * *

Castiel watched from his seat at a small table as Dean danced with a small girl named Cora whose adorable face reminded Castiel of a cherub from Raphael's paintings. Dean twirled her in time to a lively Irish tune being played by a small folk band. Their drums kept a beat pounding through the air that was arresting. Castiel found himself clapping in time with several others around him.

Jo had borrowed a dress from Jessica and with her help had styled her short hair into a curly bob. No one realized that she was the skinny boy who bunked with the Winchester brothers. She was having the time of her life fending off flirtatious drunks and occasionally dancing with one. Dean told her she was a vision when she smiled and Jo was in high spirits.

Jo had been less than pleased to see Castiel following Dean down into the third-class area and she determined to see what had captured Dean's attention. She swam through the dancers holding three glasses full of dark beer. She placed one before Castiel and he immediately took it and drank deeply. A crash sounded from nearby and Castiel turned to see a man fall onto a table that gave way beneath him. At first concerned it was a fight, Castiel laughed when he saw the man pulled to his feet by his friends and handed another beer. The world Dean was introducing him to was completely unlike what he had been brought up to consider normal.

Jo watched the pale young man. He'd been formal and stiff when he'd come below decks but now he'd loosened up and seemed to truly be enjoying himself. As Jo watched, Castiel's attention flitted from one thing to the next but he always returned to watch Dean. His striking blue eyes seemed to zero in on the elder Winchester no matter where he'd moved in the large, crowded room. Jo was intrigued most of all by the shifts in his face – when he was observing the mass of humanity around him, his face was relaxed and pleasant but studious. Castiel was unconsciously studying this new world. However, when he found Dean again with his gaze, Castiel's expression softened into something close to adoration. His eyes would drift over Dean's form as if he were trying to memorize everything about the man.

Castiel's eyes met Jo's suddenly as he followed Dean twirling Cora again. He blushed, knowing he'd been caught out but she just raised her beer and grinned at him. Castiel returned the gesture with a wide smile. His blue eyes seemed almost electric and Jo knew he was already madly in love with her friend. Jo had a feeling, even if they didn't know it yet, that these two were destined to be together.

Sam's destiny had been decided that day as well. He danced with Jess with all the abandon he was always envious of in Dean. Her spun-gold blonde hair was neatly piled on her head but for one recalcitrant tress that bobbed and twirled with its owner. Jess tilted her head back and laughed with the joy of the moment. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the pair were already in love.

Dean caught glimpses of his brother's head spinning above the crowd and was amazed at the transformation in his little brother. Gone was the 'V' from between those brows that indicated all the worry that Dean never felt but that Sam felt strongly enough for both of them. For once, Sammy was honestly and truly happy. It made Dean's heart ache but in a good way – a very good way. He sought out Castiel's face and found the man was looking right at him. Dean's heart ached a little more – this time for something he wasn't sure he deserved but wanted more than anything in the world.

The song changed and Jo grabbed Castiel's arm to drag him up to dance. Dean cut in on Sam and took Jess by the hand. Castiel looked like he might faint as he stood with Jo in his hands. Dean laughed as he moved up beside him, Jess laughing in his arms.

"Dean – I can't do this!" Castiel said with a panicked look on his face. He was an accomplished dancer but the dances he knew were nothing like this and he was horrified at looking the fool.

"Get closer to her you nut!" Dean said, shoving Castiel close to Jo. Jo laughed and gripped Castiel's hands tightly to hold him in place.

"Come on, boyo – I don't bite!"

Castiel blushed furiously and looked up at Dean with wide eyes. "I don't know the steps!"

Dean leaned over and shouted. "Neither do I, Cas! Just go with it and don't think!"

The dance began in earnest and before long, Castiel had found that his feet followed the drum without his even realizing it. He looked down at Jo who was regarding him with amused exasperation. Castiel's mouth quirked with a sudden mischievous grin and he gave over to the music thrumming through him. Jo gasped as Castiel pulled her hard against him and found his stride. Before she knew it, the room was whirling around as Castiel guided them flawlessly between the other couples. The music grew faster and faster as Jo held on to Castiel for dear life. She let loose a happy whoop and Castiel followed suit. Cliche or not, he'd never felt so very alive.

Dean was enjoying his dance with Jess but his eyes always tracked to where Castiel danced with Jo. He envied her the place in Castiel's arms and wished there was a world where he could openly show his feelings.

As the tempo began to pick up, Sam made a path through the crowd and reclaimed Jess from Dean. Sam then lifted her onto the raised wooden platform just beneath the open cargo hold and clambered up after her. Several other couples were doing the same. Dean watched with a laugh and threw caution to the wind. He threaded his way through the sea of bodies and snagged Castiel's hand. Jo relinquished him with a laugh and pushed him toward Dean.

Dean pulled the other man up on the wooden platform. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and proceeded to dance an impromptu jig in the center of the other dancing couples. Sam released Jess and joined his brother. Soon, they were surrounded by others clapping or stomping out the beat of the drums. Castiel watched for a moment and then with a grin began to copy the brothers in their steps. Before long, the trio was stomping in tandem to the delight of the crowd. Castiel threw his head back and laughed with abandon. He found himself learning the steps as he went and it made the moment all the more wonderful.

When the music changed again, Dean hugged Sam with a firm clap on the back and bowed to Jess. He and Castiel moved off to watch an arm-wrestling match as Dean snagged them two beers. Castiel drank nearly half his beer down, glancing over to see Dean staring in disbelief.

"What? You think a first-class guy can't drink?" Castiel teased.

Dean laughed – the glimpses Castiel gave into his carefully guarded personality only served to make Dean want more. They held their gaze for a moment before loud and boisterous voices were demanding new challengers for arm-wrestling. Jo shouted to Castiel who declined politely. The male contingent would not be satisfied with that and the jests began in earnest. Dean looked over at Castiel, unsure how his cultured companion would handle himself when he noticed the narrowed eyes and a mischievous grin. Jo's eyebrows went up, having seen the result of that expression appearing earlier on the dance floor. She watched with anticipation to see what would happen now.

"Very well," Castiel said, handing his beer off to Dean. "If you can copy what I'm about to do, I'll take your challenge."

With that, Castiel turned his profile to the table and rolled his shoulders to loosen them. Dean watched uncertainly as Castiel twisted at the waist to limber his muscles. He had no idea what Castiel had in mind, but it wasn't looking impressive so far. Laughter rippled through the crowd watching him.

"Is that all, boy? I can do yer twisty moves with me eyes shut!" Came a shout.

Castiel ignored them and with a wink toward Dean, proceeded to bend over backwards slowly until his palms and his feet were both flat on the floor. Dean stared in disbelief as Castiel then slowly brought his legs up until he was holding a perfectly straight handstand. Castiel inhaled and then slowly lifted one hand from the floor and slid it straight up along his body, his entire weight held up by only one arm. Then he returned to the original position and lifted the other arm. After putting both palms flat again, Castiel lowered his legs and stood back up. He was grinning from ear to ear and breathing hard with the exertion. Dean couldn't help but feel proud - and slightly stunned. The group at the table were speechless except for Jo who was cheering with unrestrained glee. No one offered to attempt the move. Castiel gave a short, respectful bow to the men and walked off with Dean.

Dean clapped Castiel on the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I haven't done that in years, Dean!" Castiel laughed.

Dean shook his head at the ever surprising talents of Castiel Novak. He would have asked where Castiel had learned to do such a thing but about that time a dance chain was formed. Castiel's hand was grabbed by Jess as they snaked by and he was pulled along in the line's wake. Dean took Castiel's other hand. Castiel's eyes locked with Dean's as their fingers intertwined. The energy between them was so strong, Dean was surprised they weren't sparking. Then the music enveloped them and they threw aside convention to enjoy that instant and the dance.

Neither of them noticed Zachariah watching from the stairway leading down into the room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a difficult time with this chapter -- it's not a very happy one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel smiled across the table at his fiancée, Anna. She looked lovely in the early morning sunlight. Castiel felt a tightening in his chest when he considered his actions of the previous night. While he'd done nothing overtly inappropriate, his thoughts afterwards of a certain hazel-eyed young man had been less than virtuous. Castiel had spent a restless night trying not to think about how handsome Dean had been at dinner and how wonderful it had been dancing with such abandon. He could still feel Dean's hand in his own.

Anna returned the smile all oblivious of her intended's emotional conflict. She proceeded to speak of inconsequential things to which Castiel listened while he sipped his tea. He found himself wondering what Dean would look like with the light falling across his hair as it did Anna's. What would that hair look like sleep-mussed on the pillow beside him?

Castiel cleared his throat abruptly and coughed as he shook himself free of his licentious thoughts. Anna offered him water which he declined, hoping she didn't notice the sudden heat creeping up his neck. Castiel had returned to picking at his fruit slices when Anna's older brother, Lucifer, entered the deck. Anna looked up and gave her brother a bright smile. Lucifer returned it before saying, "Anna, darling, would you excuse us? I have a few business matters to discuss with Castiel while he finishes his breakfast."

"Luc," Castiel protested softly. "Anna is still eating as well ... we can talk later, surely?"

Anna, however, recognized that her brother's request was no request at all. She reached across and patted Castiel's hand.

"Oh, no matter, Castiel. I need to prepare for services," Anna said gently, with a disarming smile. "Besides, I mustn't eat too much on this trip or I shall _never_ fit into my wedding gown!"

Castiel smiled tightly and stood as she got up to leave. Lucifer gave her a tender kiss on her cheek and murmured his thanks into her ear as she left the room. He gestured abruptly and Castiel's manservant, Gabriel and Anna's maid, Ruby, left the deck. Once they were alone, Lucifer sat across from Castiel and sipped from Anna's untouched orange juice.

"Ah, Castiel. I'd hoped after you received my wedding present you'd be less reluctant to spend time with me. It doesn't look well for the man marrying my sister to avoid his brother-in-law so ... actively." Lucifer said, meeting Castiel's eyes directly.

Castiel had always found Lucifer's eyes to be cold and unfeeling. Occasionally, he would see something in them, however, that was dark and unnameable. That shadow crossed into Lucifer's eyes now and Castiel shivered. He put down his fork and sighed.

"I explained, Luc – I was simply tired. We've been going non-stop for days! I just needed some rest," Castiel said.

Lucifer put the glass down and pursed his lips. "Yes ... I'm sure your exertions below decks last night were quite ... exhausting."

Castiel's head came up and he stared in shock at Lucifer. "You ... you had me _followed_? Who – oh, it was that ghoul of a valet of yours, wasn't it?"

"You will never behave in that manner again, Castiel. Do you understand me?"

Castiel froze at Lucifer's command. His response came spilling out before he could stop himself. "I am not one of your prize stallions, trained to perform, Luc. You do not _own_ me!"

"That is where you are completely and utterly _WRONG_ , Castiel!" Lucifer punctuated his outburst by standing and flinging the breakfast table over. Tableware shattered as it struck the ground.

Castiel sprang to his feet only to find Lucifer fisting the front of his dressing gown and driving him back until he was pinned against the wall. Castiel gripped Lucifer's wrist in a panic as the older man held him and leaned in until their faces were only inches apart.

"You are to wed my sister and thus, by practice if not yet by law, you are my brother. And you _will_ honor me as a brother is supposed to honor his older sibling." Lucifer ran his free hand along Castiel's jawline and pressed even closer, causing Castiel to turn his head with a whimper. "I will _not_ be made a fool of, Castiel. You do not want me to decide that you are no longer desirable to me. Is this in any way unclear?"

Castiel kept his eyes shut but shook his head.

"Excellent!" Lucifer said, releasing Castiel. "Excuse me then, _brother_. I must see to dressing for church."

Lucifer walked out as if nothing untoward had happened. Castiel's legs trembled and gave out beneath him as the totality of his fate landed on him. He sank down the wall to sit on the floor, his eyes vacant. He barely noticed a hand lightly shaking him and a voice gently speaking his name. When he turned his head, finally, he found himself staring into the light brown eyes of his servant, Gabriel. The man smiled.

"There you are, sir. Come along, we'll get you set for services." Gabriel said quietly as he pulled Castiel to his feet.

"The ... we had a small accident ... I should help ..." Castiel babbled, gesturing vaguely at the overturned table and splintered remains of the china.

"Not at all, sir. Ruby and me will have this spit-spot in no time at all ... you don't need to worry about that mess." Gabriel said, guiding Castiel into his dressing room.

Gabriel dressed his employer and tried to draw him out of his melancholy mood with funny bits of servant's gossip which normally would have at least brought a smile to Castiel's lips. Today, however, Gabriel saw the beginning of the end for Castiel's spirit. The young man was trapped and he knew it. It made Gabriel sad because he truly liked the younger Mr. Novak. It seemed unfair that some people could not escape their fate.

As he was helping Castiel with his tie, the door opened and the elder Novak entered. "Coffee, Gabriel. And see to it that my shoes are shined ... I was not pleased with your efforts last time."

Gabriel gave a short bow and left the room, closing the door behind him. Michael walked over to Castiel and took up the four ends of his tie. Castiel did not meet his eyes and Michael tried not to notice the defeated slump in his little brother's shoulders. Working the silk ties between his fingers, Michael began to talk.

"You are not to see that Winchester boy again, Castiel. Do you understand me?" Michael said firmly. "Castiel? I forbid it."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Stop, Michael ... you'll give yourself a nose-bleed."

Michael grabbed his younger brother's chin and jerked it so that he was looking directly into Castiel's eyes. "This is not a _joke_ , Castiel. Our situation is precarious. You _know_ the money is gone."

Pulling his head away from Michael, Castiel hissed, "Of course I know it's gone. You remind me every day."

"Our father left us nothing but a mountain of bad debt covered by a good name. That name is the only card we have to play. I honestly don't know what is the matter with you." Michael turned away in exasperation. "It is a fine match with Anna Milton. It will make sure our survival."

"How can you put all of this on me, Michael?"

"Why are you being so selfish?" Michael accused.

" _I'm_ being selfish?!"

"Castiel, what do you imagine will happen to us if we do not find a way to pay our father's debt? What job do you suppose you are prepared for in this world?" Michael's words cut deeply as Castiel remembered all the different types of things that Dean had done to survive. "Your precious paintings? Sold at auction. Gabriel? The other servants? Jobless – although I dare say they will have an easier time finding employment than either of us."

Castiel closed his eyes. He could not fathom that existence no matter how romantic Dean made it sound. He was ill-prepared for the world and he knew it. Michael had painted such a clear picture of what awaited them if they were forced from their home that Castiel was terrified and deeply ashamed of that terror. Michael assured him that if they lost face, whatever friends and acquaintances they had would abandon them. It had weighed on the younger Novak so heavily that when Lucifer had ventured his 'deal' to Michael, it had seemed almost a miracle.

Castiel knew he would be a false husband, married in name only. He would spend the rest of his life hiding what happened behind closed doors. The whispers would begin if they had not already but the Milton fortune was a wall between rumor and true scandal. Castiel had no idea exactly how he intended to survive it, he only knew that he had no choice. He was not as brave as Dean. He needed the security of knowing how each day of his life would go. He could not endure the uncertainty of not knowing how he was going to meet the basic needs of human life – shelter, clothing, food.

"I am a coward," Castiel said, voicing his realization aloud.

"Perhaps, brother dear, but then so am I and probably far worse. We can not survive the harsh realities of your Mr. Winchester's life. Truthfully, I do not wish to try." Michael said softly.

Castiel nodded and meekly submitted to Michael's hands as his brother set his tie in place. One had to look proper for church after all.

* * *

Dean cheerfully walked down the grand staircase and past the lovely clock where he'd met Castiel the night before. He'd changed back into more casual clothes – his usual pants and a forest green button-up that accented his eyes. Sammy's idea but Dean had taken the suggestion. He paused to say hello to the ship's architect, Mr. Thomas Andrews. They'd talked briefly at dinner. "Hello Mr. Andrews."

The man glanced up from his notebook with a smile. "Hello, Dean."

Dean continued down to where the dining room had been made into a chapel. He was stopped by the stewards at the door.

"Sir, you're not supposed to be in here," the man said quietly.

"I just need to talk to someone for a second," Dean replied. "I was just here last night. You don't remember me?"

"No sir, I don't. Now you're going to have to turn around," He put himself between Dean and the door, pushing back on Dean's chest.

Dean's temper began to rise. He could see Castiel from the door but the two guard dogs would not let him pass.

"Wait, he'll tell you," Dean said, indicating Zachariah who came out from the dining area. "I just – I just need - "

Zachariah gave Dean one of his cold, thin smiles. "Mr. Milton and Mr. Novak continue to be appreciative of your assistance."

Dean paused, hearing Castiel's name spoken so formally.

"In fact, they asked me to, uh ... give you this in gratitude." Zachariah reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked to be two twenty dollar bills.

"Look," Dean said desperately. "I don't want your money. I just need to ..."

"They also wish me to remind you that you hold a third-class ticket and that your presence here is no longer appropriate." Zachariah said, his smile fading.

"Please," Dean begged. "I just want to speak to Castiel for -"

Zachariah regarded Dean and then handed a bill each to the stewards. "Gentlemen, will you please see that Mr. Winchester gets to where he belongs ... and that he stays there?"

"Yes sir," came the immediate response.

Dean found himself unceremoniously turned and escorted away from the dining hall and Castiel.

* * *

Castiel sang the words of the hymn softly and without any emotion. Normally he enjoyed services and the singing but today the verses simply fell from his lips by rote and he heard nor felt any of them. He had no prayers to offer and his heart was dying in his breast.

He never saw Dean's attempt to reach him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The first kiss! Loved that scene in the movie and I tried very hard to make it not so "chick flick". Let me know if I succeeded. The words Dean sings are from "Melancholy Baby" which was released in 1912. It seemed to fit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Later on Sunday, Castiel joined his brother and Lucifer for a tour of the ship by Mr. Andrews. Castiel was able to lose himself in technical discussions about the ship as they walked the upper decks of _Titanic._ Castiel had always been naturally inquisitive. It was an attribute that Lucifer and his brother Michael actively tried to discourage. Lucifer had once explained that a man of Castiel's standing had little reason to be so curious about the workings of the world. That was what underlings were for – if one had firm enough control, things ran smoothly and there would never be any reason to bother with knowing _how_ things worked. It would only be important that they worked _correctly_.

Castiel had tried not to ask questions, but his nature simply wouldn't let him stay quiet. His curiousity amused and delighted Mr. Andrews who was more accustomed to dealing with blank stares from the social élite when he'd talk about his ship. And Castiel was a veritable font of inquiry – from practically every switch and lever in the wheelhouse to the triple propellers that had caused so much drama two nights previous. As Andrews explained the steering of the ship to Castiel, a crewman came up with a telegram for Captain Smith.

"Excuse me, sir. Another ice warning – this one's from the _Noordam_."

"Thank you, Sparks," Smith said, dismissing the crewman.

Castiel frowned as did Michael. Captain Smith noticed their concern and smiled reassuringly. "Oh not to worry – it's quite common for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit."

Castiel felt something uneasy settle in his stomach.

* * *

Dean glanced around and then clambered over a railing separating the third-class deck from the upper ones. He hugged the rail, grateful that the deck was nearly clear of passengers. Spotting a man playing with his son, coat and hat laid aside on a deck chair, Dean decided to gather himself some new clothing. He pulled on the derby, tucking his hair behind his ears and raising the collar of the coat.

* * *

Castiel frowned as he walked the deck listening to Mr. Andrews talk about the lifeboats. His feeling of unease grew.

"Mr. Andrews, forgive me ... I've done the calculations in my head and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned – forgive me but it seems that there are not enough for everyone on board." Castiel said.

Michael sighed loudly behind him and Lucifer looked annoyed. Castiel's constant chattering had worn their nerves and patience thin. Mr. Andrews, however, smiled as he responded.

"About half, actually," he said. His eyes sparked with humor as he continued. "Castiel, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new type davits which can take an extra row of lifeboats inside this one." He gestured down the deck. "But it was felt ... by some ... that the deck would look too cluttered and so I was overruled."

Lucifer moved past Castiel and tapped one of the boat with his walking cane. "Waste of deck space as it is on an unsinkable ship."

Castiel watched them walk on and sighed. Andrews patted the young man on the shoulder. "Fear not, young Castiel. I've built a good ship – strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you'll need." He sped up to catch up to Lucifer and Michael.

Castiel was about to join them when a strong grip captured his arm and pulled him toward the gymnasium. He barely had time to register Dean's face before he was shoved into the empty gym and the door shut behind him. Castiel began to protest softly.

"Dean, this is impossible. I can't see you." Castiel said helplessly.

Dean felt his heart stutter in his chest. "Please, Cas ... I need to talk to you."

"No, Dean. No." Castiel said, moving to the door. He turned to face Dean, his blue eyes full of sorrow. "Dean, I'm engaged. I'm going to marry Anna. I ... love Anna."

Dean pursed his lips and gave Castiel a small grin. "Cas, you're sure no picnic. You're spoiled and probably one of the most sheltered guys I know ... but under that you're the most amazing, astounding, wonderful man that I've ever known and ... "

"Dean, I -"

"No ... let me try and get this out." Dean pleaded. "You – you're amaz—look, Cas – I'm not an idiot! I know how the world works. I've got all of ten bucks in my pocket – I've got nothing to offer you and I _know_ that." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't say it'll be easy … in fact, I know it'll be damn hard. What we have between us … it isn't … people won't understand. There'll be a lot of hate for that and things could be difficult. Trust me, I know."

Castiel looked at Dean helplessly. He wanted desperately to believe everything Dean was saying - for once, he wanted to be brave enough to leap. Castiel felt heart hammer in his chest and he closed his eyes against the growing pain there. When he opened them, Dean was still looking at him, his eyes full of longing ... and hope.

"I'm too involved now, Cas. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away from you without knowing you'll be alright." Dean said, his voice husky with emotion. "That's all that I want."

Castiel swallowed down the hard lump in his throat and looked Dean directly in the eye. "Well, I'm fine, Dean. I'll be fine. Really."

"Really?" Dean echoed. "I don't believe you, Cas. They've got you in a cage, Cas and you're going to die if you don't break free – maybe not right away because you're strong, but ... but sooner or later that surprising fire that I love about you, Cas," Dean gently placed his calloused hand against Castiel's cheek. "That fire is going to burn out."

Castiel closed his eyes and fought not to lean into Dean's touch no matter how much he longed to. When he opened his eyes again they were so cold Dean pulled his hand away. "It's not up to you to save me, Dean."

Dean looked at Castiel and his heart broke in his chest. "Yeah, I know. Only you can do that."

Castiel looked at Dean and felt his heart shatter. "I'm going back. Please leave me alone, Dean. I don't want to see you any longer."

With that, Castiel ducked out of the gymnasium and walked quickly to catch up to his brothers. Dean sagged against the pebbled glass panes and felt hot tears slide down his face. He did not even care.

* * *

Later in the salon at tea, Castiel listened with only half an ear to his brother and Lucifer arguing over some recent decision by the Senate. He looked around, not really seeing anything when his gaze landed on a young boy and his father at a nearby table. The boy slouching in the chair. Castiel smiled slightly, remembering his own tendency to do that when he was small and how hard it had been to remember all the rules and 'proper' ways to do things. Castiel's smile faded as he watched the boy give in and sit up in a rigid reflection of his father's posture.

* * *

Dean had skipped dinner and stood, leaning on the railing at the bow of the ship where he and Sam had stood while the ship moved into open water. The sun was setting on the horizon. Dean did not notice. His thoughts and his heart were sinking into the same abyss.

Castiel approached Dean hesitantly again. The man's back was to him once more but this time it was bowed in somber thought instead of straight with hopeful anticipation. Castiel hated that it had been _him_ to put that dismal weight onto Dean's heart. He wondered if he would be able to remove it or if he had destroyed the best thing he'd ever had.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean spun around to see Castiel standing behind him. He wore a blue-gray suit that made his eyes stand out like twin gems. He stood with the same hopeful expression Dean had offered earlier on his face. "I – I changed my mind." He walked up to Dean with that faint smile that said volumes. "Sam said you might -"

Dean put his index finger to his lips in a silent hushing motion. Castiel fell silent as Dean simply _looked_ at him. For the first time, Castiel felt as though he was truly _seen_. Dean reached out his hand and Castiel took it. Dean grinned and said, "Close your eyes."

"Dean ..."

"Go on."

Castiel closed his eyes wondering what on earth Dean was doing. He felt himself guided toward the railing and his hands placed on it. Dean's strong body moved in behind him and this time, Castiel did not resist leaning into it.

"Keep your eyes closed, don't peek," Dean admonished.

Castiel smiled. "I will not peek, Dean."

"Step up on the rail," Dean said.

Castiel did so, feeling Dean step up behind him with legs braced on either side of his own. He felt uncertain of his balance until, once again, Dean's body pressed into his, steadying him. "Hold on, Cas. Keep your eyes shut. Do you trust me?"

"I trust you, Dean."

Dean slowly raised Castiel's arms on either side of him and then settled his own hands on the man's slender hips. Castiel swallowed hard.

"Ok, Cas – open your eyes."

Castiel did and uttered a soft gasp of surprise. From his new vantage point, he seemed to be flying over the water below. The violet and blues of the sunset reflected off the water were one of the most beautiful things Castiel had ever seen. Dean leaned in and rested his chin on Castiel's shoulder.

"Spread your wings, my gorgeous angel," Dean whispered, eliciting a smile from Castiel. Sam had told Dean after the party that 'Castiel' was the name of an angel in religious mythology. Sliding his hands into Castiel's, Dean sang softly as the wind blew over them both. " ... don't be blue ... all your fears are foolish fancies ... you know I'm in love with you ..."

Castiel released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Dean's paraphrased lyrics had unwittingly touched him more deeply than if he'd serenaded him on one knee. He released Dean's hands and felt those arms slide around him. Castiel turned and Dean's face was only inches from his own. For once, Castiel did not think nor did he care what anyone thought. He pressed his lips to Dean's.

Dean had been completely adrift when he'd come out to the railing to stare at the water. Castiel had managed to get past his walls and settle firmly in Dean's heart. Looking out over the vast water, he'd wished it would rise up and swallow him whole because he had no idea how he would live without Castiel.

But like always, life surprised him. Dean thanked whatever angels were watching over them because now, instead of gathering the crushed remains of his heart together, he was holding Castiel. He was kissing Castiel. And, would wonders never cease, Castiel was returning his kiss. The kiss was tender, not yet full of passion. It was simply enough that they were here in the moment, sharing an intimacy society would otherwise deny them.

The sun sank below the horizon, blanketing the ocean in black velvet. _Titanic_ sailed on, oblivious of the two young men falling irrevocably in love.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed or commented. And special thanks to those who caught my slip-ups in the last chapter. I self-beta so sometimes I miss things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel smiled as he returned to present day from his memory of a first kiss with Dean. That moment had solidified his love for the hazel-eyed man at that moment. Social convention, the expectations of his brother, the unwelcome advances of Lucifer – none of it had mattered when his lips had touched Dean's. He'd been raised to believe what he was feeling was wrong but nothing had ever made more sense – felt more right. Castiel smiled wistfully as he remember the other significance of that moment.

Turning away from the bank of monitors showing the now rusted bow railing of the ship, Castiel said, "That was the last time _Titanic_ ever saw daylight."

Lovett nodded. "We're up to the dusk of the night of the sinking."

The ever-animated Lewis Bodine stalked forward, shaking his head. "There's Smith and he's standing there and he's got the iceberg warning in his fucking hand – excuse me - in his hand! And he's ordering more speed!"

As the men talked, Castiel ran fingers over the back of his left hand, musing over the difference between the years. Back then, his hands had been smooth and strong. Now they shook and ached and were covered in dark spots ... all the signs of age. He looked up as Lovett offered an explanation for why Captain Smith had ignored the obvious warnings.

"Twenty-six years of experience are working against him. He figures that anything big enough to sink the ship will be large enough for them to spot in time to turn. But the ship was too big with too small a rudder ... she doesn't corner worth a damn. Everything he knows is wrong."

Castiel looked back at the monitors. He'd studied all of the research done on the _Titanic_ sinking since he'd survived it. His damnable curiosity demanding to know _why_. How could something so magnificent been brought so low by one lonely iceberg? Still, that night had been remarkable for more than just the terrible event at the end. At least for Castiel.

* * *

Castiel laughed as he unlocked the door to his stateroom and let Dean enter. Castiel called out to insure that Gabriel wasn't around. Dean took in the opulent surroundings, staring at the fresh flowers, the wood paneled walls and the lushly carpeted floor. It was the complete opposite of the spartan cabin he shared with Sam and Jo.

"This is the sitting room ... will this light do?" Castiel asked as he removed his coat.

Dean looked up from examining a sterling silver ashtray on the mantle. "What?"

"Don't artists need good light?"

Dean chuckled and in a forced French accent said, "Zat is true, but I am not used to working in zuch 'orrible conditions!" He twisted his expression into one of exaggerated disgust.

Castiel laughed. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched Dean moving around the room, absorbing every detail. Dean's attention was suddenly caught by one of the many paintings Castiel had placed around the room.

"Monet!"

"Do you know his work?" Castiel asked.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I do!" Dean gazed raptly at the painting. "Look at his use of color here ... isn't he great?"

Castiel nodded. "I know ... it's extraordinary. It's what drew me to the piece initially."

Turning, Castiel moved into the closet and Dean waited just outside still in awe of the stateroom. Castiel quickly went to the safe and ran through the combination. "Luc insists on carting this hideous thing everywhere. I hardly see the point since every hotel or ship has its own secure holding. Luc is not the most trusting of individuals."

Dean glanced back toward the door. "Should we be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out." Castiel murmured as he removed the ring Lucifer had given him from its box. He handed it over to Dean who took it cautiously.

"Wow ... that's nice. That's the weirdest color for a sapphire ..." Dean said, holding it up to the light and watching the rippling reflections bounce off the walls.

"Actually, it's a diamond," Castiel said.

Dean nearly dropped the ring. "A dia—holy! Cas, this thing's gotta be worth a fortune!"

"A small one, but yes, a fortune. It's a very rare diamond." Castiel said, watching Dean's face as he turned the ring over in his fingers. He inhaled deeply and plunged ahead, deciding that tonight he would simply see where the currents led. "Dean ... I want you to draw me ... like the models you drew in France ... wearing this ring."

Dean nodded distractedly as he examined the setting of the ring. "Yeah ... all right."

"Wearing _only_ this ring." Castiel clarified.

Dean's eyes snapped to Castiel's. His smile and the light kiss Dean gave him were all the motivation Castiel needed.

Castiel retreated to his bedroom to change while Dean rearranged the sitting room to his liking. Moving the couch, Dean eyed the light critically and studied the play of shadows in the room. Making sure Castiel had enough pillows to be comfortable, Dean settled in a chair across from the couch and began to prepare his drawing tools. He sharpened the charcoal stick and tried desperately not to think of what was about to happen. He knew he shouldn't be doing this ... he shouldn't be getting so involved with someone from such a different world, but Dean was too far gone to pull back now.

The door to the bedroom opened and Dean looked up to see Castiel standing there in a rich royal blue robe that draped gracefully over his slender frame. It was, of course, of the finest silk and had intricate golden embroidery along its edges. Dean grinned as Castiel walked across the room.

"The last thing I need is yet another portrait of myself looking like an undertaker," Castiel said with a faint smile. He paused in front of Dean and held out a dime with the hand bearing the hateful ring. "As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want."

Dean laughed and caught the dime as Castiel tossed it. He watched as Castiel stepped back a few paces and took in a deep breath. His eyes widened as Castiel unbelted and shrugged off the robe. Dean tried not to stare but his eyes drifted over Castiel's body against his bidding. He cleared his throat and motioned vaguely with his hand.

"Um ... over on the bed - uh, the couch ..."

Castiel kept his features schooled as he moved over where directed. He was nervous that Dean would not find him as attractive as the others he had drawn. It made an uncomfortable knot in his stomach.

"Go ... lie down," Dean said. He watched as Castiel arranged his arms and began to 'see' his picture. "Wait .. put your arm back the way it was ... "

Castiel followed Dean's direction and set his arms accordingly. Dean's attention was not on Castiel himself, but rather on the drawing he was about to make. The lump in Castiel's gut only seemed to get heavier. He took a shuddering breath and tried to remain still.

Dean was falling into the concentration he had when drawing. The mindset where nothing else mattered but the lines of what he was committing to paper. He watched Castiel arrange himself and was fascinated by the play of muscle along his torso. He made a few adjustments to Castiel's posture and then blew out a short breath as he took in the man lying before him.

"God, you're beautiful ..."

Castiel couldn't stop the blush that flared over his face. His nerves dissipated and he relaxed against the cushions. It took some intense mental control, but he was able to stifle his body's response. He smiled shyly at Dean and was thrilled when his smile was returned.

"Ok ... eyes to me ... keep them on me, Cas. And try to stay still." Dean ordered.

Castiel took another deep breath and looked at the man he was risking everything to be with. Dean began drawing and time played out as Castiel watched the man's hand move across the paper, his charcoal scratching softly as he glanced up and adjusted a line or a shadow.

Dean was fascinated with the lines of Castiel's body. He knew Castiel swam nearly every day to stay in shape and it showed in the lean muscle and controlled strength beneath. Dean sketched the long limbs and as his drawing dipped into Castiel's midsection, he drew the faint line of hair leading down the pelvic lines. A line of heat began to creep up Dean's neck and Castiel smirked.

"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste," Castiel teased. Dean rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."

Dean snorted. "He draws _landscapes_. Just relax your face, smart alec."

"Sorry." Castiel said with a tiny smile.

"No laughing."

That nearly set Castiel off again but he managed to maintain control and after another deep breath, he stilled. Dean continued drawing.

* * *

Castiel smiled at the rapt faces listening to his story. Adam was blushing and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Castiel chuckled.

"My heart was in my throat the entire time. It was the most ...erotic ... moment of my life. Well, up until that point at least."

Adam winced much to Castiel's amusement. Bodine asked, "What happened next?"

"Did we 'do it'?" Sheepish grins appeared in the group gathered around Castiel's chair. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Bodine. Dean was very professional."

* * *

Dean signed his initials and the date at the bottom of the picture as Castiel looked over his shoulder. Castiel was thrilled with the drawing – he could hardly believe it was really him. Dean slipped the drawing into his portfolio and handed it to Castiel.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, leaning over to kiss Dean gently.

Castiel put the ring back into its box and handed it to Dean. "Will you put this in the safe for me, Dean? I'll get dressed."

Dean nodded and walked back into the closet. As he tucked the box into the safe, he noticed the bundles of cash on one shelf and blew out an impressed whistle. "Must be rough ..." He walked out and watched the clear night from the private promenade deck as he waited for Castiel. His thoughts sped around in his mind like a whirlwind. He could not imagine anything better than the hours he'd spent so far with Castiel. If he hadn't been certain before, Dean knew now that he was in love with the young Novak. He sighed and turned from the window to walk back into the stateroom. He blew on his hands to warm them as Castiel walked out of the bedroom.

"It's gettin' cold, Cas. Hey, you look handsome," Dean said, smiling at the simple grey suit Castiel had opted to wear.

Castiel smiled back and was about to reach for Dean when a knock sounded at the door and Zachariah's voice came through the wood.

"Mr. Novak?"

Castiel grabbed Dean's arm and jerked him from the sitting room into the bedroom. Softly closing the door behind them, Castiel shoved Dean out the door back into the hallway. Dean bit his lower lip as they walked quickly down the hall. Castiel made the mistake of glancing sideways at Dean and they both burst into laughter. Hearing a door open behind them, Castiel and Dean turned to see Zachariah emerge into the hallway. Castiel grabbed Dean's arm and yelled, "Come on!"

Dean had to admit, Castiel was certainly learning to have fun.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infamous car scene – minus the hand-print on the glass (sorry). Be gentle with your critiques – I think the boys enjoyed themselves regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel did not recognize himself. Once upon a time he could not imagine a worse fate than looking improper in public. Now he was skidding with Dean on the marble flooring by the grand staircase as they rounded the corner with Zachariah in pursuit. Castiel darted toward the elevators with Dean right behind him. The operators both wore stunned expressions as he leapt into the cage. Dean landed beside him.

"Come on! Down! Down!" Castiel cried, motioning frantically to the levers that operated the elevator car.

Just as the gates securely closed and the elevator began its journey downward, Zachariah appeared. He glared at them as they descended. Castiel, who'd been mortified when Dean spat over the side of the ship, flipped the valet off. Dean burst out laughing.

On E deck, Dean and Castiel spilled out of the elevator still laughing. They continued down another set of stairs, crashing into hapless stewards and apologizing on the way. Pausing in a hallway, Dean and Castiel gulped in air between snickers. Dean shook his head in disbelief.

"Pretty damn tough for a valet, this fella," Dean said, gasping. "Seems more like a cop."

Castiel wiped at his eyes. "I think he was, previously."

Both men looked back through the service door to witness Zachariah appear the end of the hall.

"Oh shit!" Dean and Castiel yelled together before dashing off down the hallway as Zachariah came in pursuit.

Rounding a corner, they came upon a dead-end. Cursing, Dean turned and dragged Castiel through a small side door. The room was full of very loud machinery. Castiel held his hands over his ears.

"Now what?!" Castiel yelled.

"What?!" Dean hollered in return.

Looking around the room, Dean spotted a small access hatch with a ladder. Heat billowed up from below and an eerie orange light illuminated the shaft. Dean tugged on Castiel's sleeve and they descended the ladder down into what Castiel recognized as the boiler room for the ship. He stared at the long row of boilers and tenders. The heat was incredible and the soot filled air made him cough.

From behind them came a voice raised in disbelief. "Hold up! What are you two doing down here?"

Dean grabbed Castiel's elbow and pulled him away from the dumbstruck man even as he continued shouting about it being unsafe. Castiel ran behind Dean down the row, dodging around coal tenders and avoiding wheelbarrows or the handles of the shovels they used to throw coal into the boilers. It was the most fun he'd had in his entire life. He had absolutely no idea where they were going, but Castiel found he just did not care. He wanted only to be with Dean. It sounded like something out of the latest romance novel, but as long as he was with Dean, Castiel knew he would be happy.

Dean led them to a hatch on the far side of the boiler room. When opened, they discovered that it went into one of the ship's holds. It was a relief to be out of the immense heat. Pushing back sweat-slicked hair, Dean looked at Castiel and was glad to find his grin mirrored back at him. Dean had been afraid that Castiel would be having some sort of nervous fit over their antics but it appeared that his angel was adapting just fine.

Moving between shipping crates and luggage, Dean and Castiel found a lovely maroon automobile sitting alone in the hold. Dean gave a low whistle and ran his hand tenderly over the hood.

"Whoa, Cas .. this is a Renault town car! Thirty-five horsepower! What a beaut!" Dean gushed.

Castiel smiled at Dean's enthusiasm. It was infectious and Castiel found himself definitely in a fever. As Dean slid into the front seat, Castiel schooled his features and stood with a frown beside the passenger door. He cleared his throat loudly and shifted his eyes meaningfully toward the door.

Dean laughed and immediately went around and opened the door with a particularly dry expression on his face.

Castiel stepped into the car and Dean shut the door behind him before jumping into the front again and sliding over to the steering wheel. Castiel lowered the divider between the passenger seats and the driver and leaned forward as Dean honked the horn.

"Where to, sir?" Dean asked jauntily.

Castiel swallowed hard. He pressed his lips against Dean's ear and whispered, "Anywhere with you, Dean."

Dean turned, his eyes wide. Castiel gripped Dean's shoulders and dragged him over the divider into the backseat with him. After they'd untangled, Dean turned and looked at Castiel, a faint smile playing across his lips. He took Castiel's hand and intertwined their fingers, letting their palms rub together. Dean felt himself falling into the blue eyes that had captured his attention the first day.

Castiel felt out of control, but he couldn't feel concerned about it. He was here, alone, with Dean. Dean's hand was pressing against his and Dean's beautiful hazel-green eyes were staring into his own. There was nowhere on the entire planet Castiel would have wanted to be in that moment.

"You nervous, Cas?"

Castiel looked steadily at Dean and shook his head. He wasn't afraid or nervous. He knew what he wanted. To emphasize his desire, Castiel raised Dean's fingers to his lips. Softly, he kissed the tips, never looking away from Dean's eyes. Dean had fallen very still. Castiel smiled shyly.

"I know what I want Dean ... I want you."

Dean blinked, not believing he was hearing Castiel say those words. This man from a world Dean knew nothing about ... a world of money and privilege ... wanted him – Dean Winchester, nobody. He gently brushed his knuckles against Castiel's cheek and leaned in to press a kiss against his soft lips.

Castiel opened to the kiss and suddenly his senses were filled with nothing but Dean. He relaxed into the kiss, letting Dean explore to his heart's content. When they broke, breathing heavily, Castiel couldn't look away from the eyes that were almost dark emerald with desire.

"You are so beautiful, Cas," Dean said huskily. "My beautiful angel."

Castiel looked at Dean and reveled in his attention for a moment. Here, in this man's arms, was where he belonged, now and forever. Castiel was achingly hard and he couldn't fathom why they were wearing so many clothes. He needed to touch and taste and above all, _feel_.

Dean chuckled as Castiel began tugging at his coat and then shirt. "Easy, Cas ... "

"No," Castiel breathed against Dean's neck. "No more easy. No more safe. No more of _that_ world. I want you, Dean ... I want ... I -"

Dean captured Castiel's hands in his own, pulling a desperate sound out of Castiel. He kissed him softly, moving down his jawline and to his neck. When Dean nipped at the skin just behind Castiel's ear, the younger man moaned. Dean released his hands and Castiel immediately began working at Dean's belt.

"The things you do to me, Cas ... you don't even know," Dean growled.

"Show me, Dean. Show me ... touch me ... please ..." Castiel did not know how to ask so he simply pressed his hand against Dean's erection. He trembled at the sound Dean made. Castiel tentatively nipped at Dean's lower lip and quickly found himself pressed down into the seat, Dean bracing himself above him.

Castiel shuddered as Dean ran his hand down from chest to just above his own hardness. Dean pushed impatiently at Castiel's suit coat and then it was a flurry of motion as they pulled off clothes in a frantic effort to reach one another. When Dean pressed his body against Castiel's, gently rubbing cock against cock, Castiel thought he might just die from the friction alone.

Dean began to kiss Castiel's chest, teasing with his tongue between one nub and the other. He sucked one nipple gently through his teeth until Castiel's moans were sharp gasping cries. Dean knew Castiel was virgin to every sensation currently rushing through his slender frame. He desperately wished they had more time but wasn't about to stop. Dean dragged in air as Castiel's hands ran down his back, fingers lightly tracing his spine. As Dean arched up, Castiel took advantage and slid his hand between them, clasping their erections together.

"Cas!" Dean cried.

Moving his hand down, Dean eased Castiel's away and began a steady stroke of both their cocks. He ran his thumb lightly over the head of Castiel's and thrilled to hear his name gasped in such a broken, helpless way.

Castiel dragged his hands over Dean's chest in desperate motions as the heat built. How had he never known his body could feel like this? How had he ever imagined Dean's touch would be wrong? Castiel couldn't think past the sensation of Dean's hand and fingers dragging him into a heavy spiral that he could not resist or escape. He gripped Dean's shoulders tightly, seeking some sort of anchor to the world. Every new spike of pleasure threatened to take him over an edge into ... where? Castiel's movements became erratic as he fought the loss of control.

Dean was entranced by his lover's wanton moans, his pleas for something he couldn't name. When he saw Castiel begin to struggle, he slowed and leaned in to kiss the lips he loved and whisper, "Let go, Cas ... I got you ... trust me ... let go ... it's alright ... "

Dean caught a quick glimpse of the luminous blue eyes before they rolled back and Castiel's eyelids fell shut. He smiled and sped his stroke, teasing and drawing out the relentless surge until finally he was swept up and away with Castiel. Their sharp cries blended together and echoed in the cargo hold.

Barely able to breathe, much less talk, Dean and Castiel looked at one another. Bodies glistening with sweat, neither man wanted to pull away. Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair, pushing it away from where it fell and blocked his view of the hazel eyes he could not get enough of. Dean kissed Castiel softly and eased his body down onto his lover. Castiel took the weight gladly and exhaled when Dean lay his head on Castiel's chest.

"You're trembling, Dean," Castiel said, wrapping his arms tightly around the broad torso.

Dean murmured, "Don't worry 'bout me, Cas. I'm fine. I'm better than fine."

Castiel's mind sang what he couldn't say aloud, _I love you, Dean Winchester. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou._

He thought his heart might stop when Dean whispered, "I love you too, Cas."

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel and Dean staggered out of the hold onto the main deck laughing. Castiel left his suit coat behind when he and Dean were forced to leave before they were discovered by stewards.  Castiel was sure that they had been sent by Lucifer. 

“Ha! Did you see those guys' faces?  That was ... excellent!” Dean laughed.

Castiel was leaning over trying to catch his breath from laughing.  He straightened up and found himself looking directly at Dean.  They stood only inches apart.  Dean took Castiel's hand.  Then he kissed him.

Castiel smiled as they parted and gently brushed his fingertips along Dean's jawline.  “When the ship docks ... I'm leaving with you.”

Dean's eyes widened and he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.  “This is crazy, Cas ...”

“I know,” Castiel nodded.  “That's exactly why I trust it.”

Castiel was not going to spend one more moment of his life without Dean.  He didn't care if he had to live under a bridge like a troll.  He kissed Dean deeply, not caring who saw. 

Suddenly a shudder ran through the deck under them and Dean gripped Castiel as they fought to keep their balances.  Castiel and Dean looked up at a sight neither of them ever believed they'd see – an iceberg right beside the ship.  Dean jerked Castiel back as the vessel grazed the large ice mass and large chunks crashed onto the deck.  Dean ran to the railing and looked back down the length of the ship.  He could see the deep scrapes along _Titanic's_ sides.  A dark feeling settled in his stomach.

* * *

If Dean had been in quarters, he would have leapt out of bed as Sam and Jo did only to find himself standing in several inches of ice cold water.  He probably would have ordered them to quickly dress and gather their belongings.  Thinking of his brother the entire time, that's just what Sam did.  He tried to tell himself it was just the cold water that was making his hands tremble so badly. 

* * *

Dean led Castiel carefully back to the first-class section of the ship. As they walked through the gate, they met Mr. Andrews, the Captain and other crewmen talking briskly about the water coming onto the ship.  When Dean heard one man mention that the mailroom was underwater he started.  Castiel met his eyes, their expressions the same.  They had been together in that room less than an hour earlier. If they hadn't left to avoid Lucifer's pursuit . . .

“This is bad, Cas,” Dean said softly.

Castiel looked at Dean and saw that his lover was truly worried.  “We should warn the others, Dean.”

* * *

Dean and Castiel walked back to the staterooms.  They did not hold hands, but they were shoulder to shoulder.  It was all they could chance in public.  Dean leaned into Castiel as they saw Zachariah outside in the hallway.  The valet straightened and smiled.

“We've been looking for you, sir,” he said.

“Here we go,” Castiel said as they walked past him without a glance and entered the rooms.  Anna sat in her dressing gown, looking suitably distressed.  Lucifer was pacing and the Master-at-Arms and his men were looking over the room.  Michael was a dark thundercloud that no one approached as he sat on the sofa near the fireplace.

Castiel took in the bustle in his room and immediately disregarded it.  He walked up to Michael.  “Michael, something serious has happened.”

Michael stood, silent and watchful.  Lucifer approached the couple, his eye cold.  “Yes ... yes it has ...”  He took in the proximity of the men to one another and his facial expression froze.  “Two things dear to my sister have disappeared this evening.  Now that one has returned ... now that one is back, I have a pretty good idea where to find the other one.  Search him.”

“Now what?!?” Dean exclaimed as the crewmen took off his coat and began to examine the pockets while the Master-at-Arms patted him down.  His hazel eyes grew wide as the diamond ring emerged from one of the interior pockets.

Castiel felt his heart stutter.  His mind was going in a thousand directions at once as he struggled to process what he was seeing.  He looked at Dean in shock.

“This is bullshit!” The elder Winchester yelled.  “Don't you believe it Cas!  Don't!”

“But ... he couldn't have ... I was with him the entire time ... “ Castiel said.  He felt as though he couldn't breathe suddenly.  “This is absurd.”

Lucifer moved up behind Castiel as Dean was handcuffed.  As he did, he leaned close and hissed softly so no one else could hear, “Perhaps it was while you were putting your clothes back on, _dear_ Castiel. _”_

Dean looked in shock at Lucifer.  “Real slick, there, Luc.  Cas ... they put that in my pocket!”

Zachariah chuckled.  “It isn't even your pocket, is it son?”  He turned the name patch toward Lucifer.  “Property of A.L. Ryerson.”

Dean blushed and looked at Castiel who'd gone very pale.  “I just borrowed it, Cas.  I was going to return it, I swear.”

Lucifer chuckled.  “Oh we have an _honest_ thief here, do we?”

Dean could see doubt swimming behind Castiel's eyes – those blue eyes he saw even in his dreams.  “You _know_ I didn't do this, Cas.  You _know_ it.”

Castiel blinked slowly.  His heart was breaking in his chest.  He'd been such a fool.  Such a tremendous fool to believe that Dean had wanted _him_. Castiel realized he'd been an easy mark.  He swallowed hard  as Dean leaned closer to him. 

“Don't you believe them, Cas.  You _know_ I didn't do it.” Dean whispered desperately.  He couldn't bear to see the look of betrayal in Castiel's eyes.  His heart clenched as he saw a resolute expression fall over the young man's face.  “Cas!  Cas! You know me!  You know I didn't do it!”

Castiel watched as Dean was dragged out of the room and down the hall, still pleading with his lover.  He stood helpless in the sitting room as the others slowly trickled out.  He tried not to see the expression of hurt on Anna's face as she returned to her rooms nor the dismay on his  brother Michael's.  He'd disappointed everyone.  Including himself.

Lucifer stood in the doorway between the sleeping area and the main room.  He walked over to Castiel and regarding him silently for a moment. Castiel looked up and met his eyes.  The next moment his face stung with a brutal slap.  Lucifer grabbed his shirt front and dragged him close.

“Oh ... a little slut are we?” Lucifer snarled.  He shook Castiel as the younger man turned his head away.  “You. Will. _LOOK_ at me when I'm talking to you.”

A knock sounded at the door and stewards entered.  Lucifer snarled. “Not now ---” To his shock, the steward continued talking over him.

“Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelts and come up to ---”

“Did you not hear me?  I said _not now_.” Lucifer said warningly.

The steward ignored the tone and continued firmly.  “I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Milton, but it's _captain's orders_. Now then, please dress warmly.  It is quite cold out tonight.”  He lifted the lifebelts from their storage place in the closet.  “May I suggest topcoats and hats.”

Castiel stood stunned in the middle of all the controlled chaos.  He didn't even register when Gabriel began manuevering him into a thick topcoat.  He looked down at his servant in a daze.  Gabriel smiled.

“Don't worry, sir – I'm sure it's just a precaution.”  Gabriel said. Unfortunately, he did not believe his own words.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel could see the bustle of activity out on the decks and his heart felt like a stone in his chest.  He stood in a daze at the bottom of the grand staircase as people milled about dressed in long fir coats and top hats.  The ship's band played “Alexander's Ragtime Band” while they waited and waiters drifted among the crowd, offering drinks for the passengers.  Gabriel stood beside him watching the scene uncertainly.  

Anna sighed heavily as her brother and Michael Novak discussed the “damned English doing everything by the book”.  

“There is no cause for language, dear brother.”  Anna said shortly.  

Anna's world had been abruptly shaken.  Learning that not only had her fiancee been unfaithful to her ... but that he'd been with a _man_. It was almost more than she could bear.  She was no fool.  She knew her brother's ... predilections well enough.  Anna also knew why she had been betrothed to Castiel.  It hadn't mattered at the time because she was certain she and Castiel could be happy even if ... well, it didn't do to dwell upon Lucifer's other motives.  But now Castiel had been revealed as having those very same preferences ... Anna wondered if she would find herself alone after the wedding.  She wondered if perhaps Castiel would not mind her brother's advances so much now that he had partaken of the poisonous fruit.  A soft cry escaped her as she pictured a lonely life hiding the darkness in her family.  It was not a pleasant future to behold.

Her maid, Ruby, was immediately at her mistress' side.  Anna smiled softly.  “Ruby, go put the heaters on in the room.  I will want a cup of tea when we return.”

Ruby curtseyed and handed Anna her life jacket before leaving for the room.  Lucifer hovered near Castiel, his anger at the young man unabated.  He had no intention of letting the young Novak out of the engagement.  He fully intended to have him – more now than ever. Castiel would learn what it meant to insult a Milton.

Just then, Castiel noticed Mr. Andrews walking through the crowd with a dismayed expression on his face.  Castiel's blood ran cold by what he saw reflected in the man's eyes.  He made his way over to him, Gabriel in tow and just behind his servant, Lucifer.  As the architect moved to go up the grand staircase, Castiel was able to catch the man's sleeve and he turned.  Andrews looked down at Castiel blankly for a moment before he realized who the young man was.

“Mr. Andrews,” Castiel said urgently.  “I saw the iceberg and I see it in your eyes.  Please ... tell me the truth.”  Castiel looked pleadingly at the man.  

Andrews glanced around and then guided Castiel a little away from the crowd. Gabriel stayed close and Lucifer stood nearby, able to hear everything.  With a deep breath, Andrews looked Castiel directly in the eyes.  

“The ship will sink,” he began.

Castiel paled.  “You-you're certain?” 

Andrews nodded.  “Yes, in an hour or so ... “ He looked around the grand staircase with its magnificent dome.  “All this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

“What?” Lucifer said, not certain he'd heard correctly.

“Please,” Andrews said.  “Tell only who you must ... I don't want to be responsible for a panic.”

Castiel nodded, numb.  

“Get to a boat, quickly, Castiel.  Don't wait.”  Mr. Andrews speared Castiel with a stern gaze.  “You ... _do_ remember what I told you about the boats?”

Castiel blinked then nodded again.  “Yes.  I understand.” 

* * *

In the Master-of-Arms quarters, Dean found himself being handcuffed to piping that ran through the corner of the room.  A junior officer came in and addressed his superior.  “Sir, they need you up in the second-class pursers office ... there's a big mob up there.”

Zachariah stepped forward, drawing his gun.  “Go on, I'll keep an eye on him.”

“Aye ... right,” The Master-of-Arms said with a curt nod.  He finished locking Dean's hands together and left, handing Zachariah the key. Zachariah smiled grimly and sat down to watch Dean.  Dean felt like a poisonous snake was observing him before striking.

* * *

In the third class passenger levels, Sam and Jo were fighting their way through the crowds of people standing near the staircases leading up to the top decks.  The gates were locked and a steward was patiently explaining that it was not yet time for them to go up to the lifeboats.  Sam left Jo and pushed his way to the top of the stairs.

* * *

On the man deck, Castiel stood beside Anna, watching the lifeboats being lowered.  He wondered vaguely at the futility of the efforts and his heart stuttered when he considered how many lives would be lost this night.  Overhead, a large signal flare burst into streamers like a holiday firework.  

* * *

In the Master-of-Arms office, Dean glanced out the porthole and was not encouraged to see the water line rising.  He could feel the tilt of the deck below his feet.   At the desk, Zachariah was putting a bullet on the surface and watching it roll towards the edge.  He did this twice before putting the round back in its magazine and sliding that home into the gun.  Turning, he smiled at Dean.

“You know ... I do believe this ship may actually sink,” Zachariah said, almost amused.  Standing, he walked over to Dean who tensed and watched the gun nervously.  “I've been asked to give you this small token of our appreciation.”

With that, Zachariah's fist landed squarely in Dean's midsection, driving out the air and doubling the young man over as far as the handcuffs would allow.

“Compliments of Mr. Lucifer Milton.”  Zachariah said as he snatched the handcuff key from the desk and calmly walked out the door.

Behind him, Dean wondered about his luck and sucked in painful gulps of air.

* * *

On the deck, Castiel stood and watched as women and children were loaded onto boats.  He watched as half-full boats were sent out into the water and his internal calculations became even more grim.

Michael murmured, “I wonder if the boats will be seated according to class? It wouldn't do if they were too crowded.” 

Lucifer chuckled in agreement.  Castiel stared in disbelief at his older brother and his anger flared.  “Brother of mine ... _shut up_!”  Castiel took hold of Michael's shoulders and shook him.  “Don't you _understand_? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats!  Not enough by half ... half of the people on this ship are going to _die!”_

Lucifer knocked Castiel's hands away from his brother, who stared at Castiel with an apprehensive expression.  

“Not the _better_ half, dear Castiel,” Lucifer hissed.

Anna heard everything that Castiel said and she suddenly felt as adrift as the boat she stood on.  She began to back away from the lifeboats unnoticed by her brother.  Gabriel was too intent on his own charge to see her moving away.  

Lucifer glanced down at Castiel with a smug look.  “You know, it's a pity I didn't keep that drawing,” he said.  “It'll be worth a lot more by morning.”

Castiel stared at Lucifer as the import of his words came home.  

“You unimaginable bastard,” Castiel snarled.

Lucifer chuckled and turned to see his sister into the boat.  “Anna? _Anna?!?”_

Castiel and Michael looked around them in shock as the boat began to lower. Castiel turned away and Michael grabbed his arm.  “Castiel, where do you think you're going?  You need to stay here and be ready to board when men are allowed ...”

Castiel jerked his arm out of his brother's grasp.  He looked up into the face of his once-beloved sibling and the man who had run his life for so long.  “Goodbye, Michael, my brother.”

With that, Castiel turned and stalked down the deck.  Lucifer snarled at Gabriel, “Find her!”  Then he was running after Castiel.  He caught his sister's fiancee half-way down the deck.

“Where are you going?!?” Lucifer growled as he gripped Castiel's elbow. “What ... to _him?_ You'd be a – a-- you'd lay with a common gutter rat?!”

“I would rather live with him in the gutter than spend one moment with you in _any_ mansion!” Castiel snapped.  He turned to leave again but Lucifer refused to release his arm.

“No! No I won't allow it!”  Lucifer said angrily ... haughtily.  “I said _no,_ Castiel!”  

Castiel pulled back, hawked and spat in Lucifer's face – Castiel thought Dean would have been proud of both the velocity and mucous volume.  Then he turned and raced to find Mr. Andrews ... and Dean.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action scenes ahead ... I tried to make it flow smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel ran through the corridors frantically looking for Mr. Andrews.  He finally spotted him walking along and urging people to put on their life-vests and go to the boat deck.  He ran up to the man who stared at him in shock.

“Mr. Andrews!  Where would the Master-at-Arms take someone under arrest?”

“What? Castiel, I told you ... you have to get to a boat right away.” Mr. Andrews protested.

“No!” Castiel cried.  “I am doing this with or without your help, sir ... but without will take longer.”

Mr. Andrews regarded the young man for a moment.  He sighed and shook his head but began to tell Castiel directions.  “Take the elevator to the bottom.  Go to the left down the crewman's passage.  Then go right and left again at the stairs.  You'll come to a long corridor ... “

* * *

Dean stared at the porthole beside him.  It was completely submerged.  He felt helpless and not a little afraid. 

“This could be bad,” Dean murmured.

A gurgling noise caught his attention and he looked behind him to see water creeping along the floor.  Dean's eyes widened and he was suddenly trying to find every way he could to break the handcuffs off.  His curses echoed down an empty hallway steadily filling with water.

* * *

Castiel ran through the hallways and tried not to think of the last time he'd done this with Dean.  They had been so carefree then ... not yet lovers but in love nonetheless.  Now Castiel was determined to find Dean if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Skidding around the corner, Castiel ran up to the one operating elevator.  The steward blocked him. 

“I'm sorry, sir but the lifts are closed.” The young operator said.

Castiel regarded the man for a moment and then a dark frown passed over his face.  He shoved the operator back into the car, snarling, “I am _through_ being polite, damn it!  Now take me _down_!”

The operator moved with alacrity to do as Castiel ordered.

* * *

Dean watched the water rising with trepidation.  He had no idea how he was going to get out of this ... or if he would.  He frantically tried to slip the cuffs but they were fastened too tightly and he had nothing to pick the locks with.  Dean Winchester looked at the water and wondered how long it would take him to drown. 

* * *

Castiel stood with a clenched jaw as the elevator dropped to E Deck.  As they came to the bottom, water poured into the car.  The operator became frantic.

“I'm goin' back up!  I'm goin' back up!”

Castiel shoved the man away from the gates.  “No!”  He pushed them open and waded out into the cold water filling the deck.

The operator looked at him with wide, wild eyes.  “I'm going back up!”

Castiel did not even notice the car leaving as he stood to get his bearings. He began to walk down the crew passage, the water creating a difficult resistance.  In his mind he repeated the directions to himself as he walked.  He had to find Dean.  He simply had to.

Dean climbed on top of a desk which had floated near him.  He was beginning to lose hope.

Castiel pushed through the corridor, shoving floating debris out of the way as he marched on, his breath coming in short gasps.  Coming to an intersection at the bottom of the stairs, Castiel looked right and then left, trying to recall which way to go.  He turned left and began to call out.

“Dean? Dean!”

Dean blinked.  Had he just heard a voice calling his name?  He listened again more intently.

“Dean! Dean!” Castiel cried out.

An incredulous look on his face, Dean began shouting at the top of his lungs.

“CAS!”

Castiel turned at the shout.  “Dean?!?”

“Cas! I'm in here!  I'm in here!”  Dean banged the cuffs against the pipe.

Castiel turned and began running down the hallway to the sound of Dean's voice and the metallic clanging. 

“Dean?!” Castiel shoved open a door against the press of water. 

“Cas!”

Castiel slogged through the room to where Dean was handcuffed.  He couldn't imagine a better sight than that of his lover.  Remorse flooded over him.

“Dean! I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry!” Castiel said, finally reaching the pipe and pressing his lips to Dean.  It felt so very right to have Dean in his arms again.  When they broke, Dean began to protest his innocence.

“That guy Zachariah put it in my pocket!” Dean said, willing Castiel to believe him.

“I know, I know, I know, I know,” Castiel cried, hugging Dean to himself.

Dean pulled back.  “Listen, Cas, you've got to find a spare key, all right?” He pointed to a cabinet across the way.  “Look there, Cas ... it's a little silver one!”

Castiel threw open the cabinet and ran his hand along the rows of keys, his heart clenching tighter and tighter as he did not find it.  “These are all brass, Dean!”

Dean looked around the room.  “Cas, check right here,” He kicked out at the desk he'd been standing on. 

Castiel began tearing the drawers out of the desk and dumping their contents.

_This isn't happening.  This isn't happening_. Castiel thought helplessly as still no spare key appeared.

“Cas!” Dean said urgently.  Castiel turned and met Dean's eyes.  “How did you find out I didn't do it?”

Castiel blushed and smiled shyly.  “I didn't, Dean.  I just realized I already knew.”

Dean grinned broadly.  Then he nodded his head toward the desk.  “Keep looking!”

Castiel threw the drawers down and ran into the adjoining officers quarters. He found nothing.  He came back out looking frantically around himself. 

“There's no key, Dean!  There's no key!”

Dean spoke calmly to bring Castiel back from his panic.  “Ok, Cas ... listen to me.  You're gonna have to go find some help.  It'll be alright, Cas.  You can do this.”

Castiel looked bleakly at the man he loved, then waded back over to Dean and pulled him into a kiss.  He met Dean's hazel eyes.  “I'll be right back.” Then he left the room.

“I'll just wait here,” Dean called.  He looked at the water which was now to his knees and exhaled sharply. 

_Hurry, Cas.  Please hurry._

* * *

Castiel struggled down the hallway filled with now waist-high water.  He gasped and struggled to catch his breath as he came to the staircase again.

_Stairs to D Deck_ the sign read.  Castiel pulled himself out of the water and ran up the stairs.  “Hello?  Is anyone here?”  Castiel felt like his head was on a swivel as he fought to look in every direction at once.  “Hello? Is there anybody down here?!  We need help! Hello?”

Castiel ran down another empty hallway, calling out.  “Can anybody hear me? Please!  Hello!  Hello!”  He sagged against the wall as his heart sank within him.  Then the lights fell dark.  Castiel pressed against the wall and tried to still his breathing but nothing seemed to help. A loud rumbling creak echoed through the hallway.  Castiel began to shake alone in the dark.  His breath was coming in panicked gasps.

The lights suddenly came back up, startling Castiel.  He took a deep breath and pushed away from the wall.  He had to be brave ... brave for Dean.  As he started down the hall again, a steward carrying an armload of life vests came around the corridor.  Castiel could have wept with relief.  The steward looked irritatedly at Castiel.

“Oh, sir, you shouldn't be here.  Come along we'll get you back up where it's safe...” The man gripped Castiel's arm and dragged him along even as Cas struggled to explain himself.

“Wait ... please, I need your help.” Castiel pulled back towards Dean's direction.  “Please!  There's a man down here and he is trapped ...”

The steward looked back to Castiel with a wild gaze.  “There's no need to panic!”

Castiel shook his head.  “No ... wait, I'm _not_ panicking ... you're going the wrong way!”

The steward's vice-like grip did not slacken and Castiel could get no purchase on the floor with his dress shoes.  Finally, he grabbed the railing that ran the length of the corridor and pulled back as hard as he could.

“ _LISTEN!”_ Castiel shouted as he slugged the man.

The steward's head rocked back and when he looked at Castiel again, it was with blood pouring down his face.  He gave Castiel an almost insane grin.  “Oh to hell with you!”  He ran off, leaving Castiel alone in the hallway. 

_Well,_ _that_ _was counter-productive_ , Castiel thought miserably.

Leaning against the wall, Castiel struggled against his panic.  The ship creaked around him and then Dean's face appeared in Castiel's mind along with a memory of Dean saying he loved him.  A strange determined calm settled over Castiel and he opened his eyes.  Across from him was a fireman's ax in its glass case.  Castiel's eyes narrowed and then he was slamming his elbow into the case and shattering the glass.  Pulling the ax out, Castiel raced back to Dean.  He stopped with his heart in his throat as he came to the staircase ... The water on Dean's level was nearly up to Castiel's neck.  He quickly removed his jacket and slid into the water with a gasp.  He was stunned at how frigid the water was.

_I'm coming, Dean ... please hold on ... I won't let you down._ Castiel thought.

Reaching overhead, Castiel used the pipes lining the ceiling to pull himself along the corridor.  It was slow going but faster than if he tried to simply walk against the current.  He finally reached the Master-at-Arms office again.

“Dean!”

“Cas!”

“Will this work?” Cas asked breathlessly as he held up the ax.

Dean regarded the sharpened tool and shrugged.  “Guess we're about to find out, Cas.”  He held the chain against the pipe.  Castiel raised the ax overhead.  “Wait! Wait, Cas ... uh, try a few practice swings over there.”

Dean indicated one of the wood cabinets with his chin.  Cas nodded and took a  broad swing, embedding the head of the ax in the wood. 

“Good!” Dean praised.  “Now try to hit that same spot again!”

Castiel pulled back and swung the ax again.  The next hole was a considerable distance from the first one.  Dean blinked and gave Castiel a nervous grin. 

“I guess that's enough practice, Cas.” Dean said with the broad grin that Castiel loved.  “Listen, Cas ... you can do this.  Just hit it really hard and really fast.”

Castiel prepared, gripping the ax handle with all the strength he had.  Dean urged him to widen his grip, which he did.  “Like this, Dean?”

“Just like that, babe.  Listen ... Cas ... I trust you, ok?” Dean said with a smile.  He turned his head and closed his eyes, bracing for whatever came next.  “GO!”

It was probably best that Dean did not look as Castiel swung the ax – he would have seen that his lover's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. The chain parted with a spark and suddenly Dean was free.  He whooped in relief and pulled Cas to him for a kiss.

“You did it, angel!  You did it!”

Castiel was weak-kneed but could not stop smiling.  He'd done it ... he'd freed Dean!

“Come on, Cas.  Let's get out of here.” Dean said, sliding into the water.  He let out a less than manly shriek as the cold water soaked him.  “Shit this is cold!”

Castiel went into the hallway with Dean close behind.  The staircase Castiel had come down was completely flooded.  Castiel stared in disbelief.

“But ... this is the way out, Dean!”

“Come on, Cas ... we'll find another way out.” Dean said, pulling on Cas' hand.

* * *

Lucifer stalked through the mob on the decks.  Chaos was close to erupting, he could tell by the tension and fear in the air.  He looked over and saw his valet.

“Zachariah!”

His manservant came quickly to his employer's side.  “He isn't on the starboard side, either.  Also, I'm afraid Gabriel hasn't found your sister.”

Lucifer snarled in frustration.  “We are running out of time and this strutting martinet isn't letting any men on at all.”

Zachariah looked at Lucifer steadily.  “There's a boat on the other side letting men on.”

“Well, then, that's our play.  We'll need some insurance first.  Come on!”

* * *

A steward watched in disbelief as a door leading in a third class corridor splintered, spilling Dean and Castiel out.  Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and then began to walk down the hallway quickly.  The steward followed, indignant.

“Here now!  That's White Star property!  You'll have to pay for ---”

Castiel and Dean rounded on the man together.  “ _SHUT UP!”_

* * *

Sam stood at the gates leading to the boat deck.  A steward refused to open the gates despite the loud desperate protestations of the passengers. Sam was furious.

“You can't leave us locked up down here like animals!  The ship is sinking!” Sam yelled.

The gates were opened briefly, allowing a few women to squeeze through, but then the crowd pushed forward in a frantic bid for freedom.  The stewards immediately began to push the mob back down the stairs.  One of them pulled a gun and held it threateningly at the passengers still pressed against the gate.

“For God's sake!  There are women and children down here!” Sam yelled. “Let us out so we can have a chance!”

The man did not move.  Sam's eyes narrowed and he backed away from the gate in disgust.  Turning, he ran down the stairs and then he spotted Dean.

“Dean!”

“Sammy!”

The brothers embraced tightly.  Castiel saw Jessica and Jo huddled together nearby.  It was a grim reunion indeed.

“Can we get out, Sammy?” Dean hollered over the din of voices.

Sam shook his head.  “It's hopeless that way, Dean!”

“Well, whatever we do, Sammy, we gotta do it fast.” Dean said.  Noticing Jo, he hugged the frightened young girl tightly.  “Hey, kiddo.”

“Dean ... there's naught way out that way!” Jo pointed back down the corridor. 

Dean nodded and looked around.  “This place is flooding ... come on, let's go this way!”

Dean and Sam led the motley group down another hallway.  Castiel could not help but wonder how many of them would be alive when the night was over.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Dean raced down the hallways frantically trying to find an escape. The feeling of being trapped like a rat was quickly becoming overwhelming. Suddenly, Dean spotted a possible exit. It was another locked gate and the steward was telling everyone firmly, "Go back down the main stairwell, it will all be sorted there."

Dean stood at the gate and stared directly at the man. "Open the gate."

"Go down to the main stairwell," the little man said.

Dean wished he could lay hands on the man – he'd shake him until his teeth rattled. "Open the gate right now!"

"Go back down the main stairwell like I told you!"

Dean turned away but his temper had the better of him. He spun around and slammed his hands against the gate. Taking hold of the frame, he shook it in its track. " _Sonuvabitch!"_

Refusing to accept his fate, Dean cast around for something, anything to get through the gate. Then he spotted it – a wooden bench firmly bolted to the deck. Dean glanced back at the gates and met Sammy's eyes. Sam grinned and nodded.

The Winchester brothers began tugging at the bench until it splintered against the bolts. Castiel quickly cleared the other passengers away from the gate, seeing what they were about to do.

"Move! Move! Give them room!" Castiel yelled.

The stewards stared in disbelief. "That's White Star property! You put that down!"

Sam and Dean were joined by a couple of larger male passengers. They rammed the gate once, twice and it gave on the third try. Leaping over the bench, Dean and Sam turned back to help Jess and Jo over it. Castiel followed as they headed down the corridor. As they passed the sputtering steward, Jo lashed out with her fist and the man fell back, his nose bleeding. Castiel laughed and raced to catch up with Sam and Dean.

* * *

On the main deck, chaos had begun to infect the mob. Boats were quickly being swamped and overrun. Lucifer and Zachariah watched as the boat allowing men launched. Lucifer cursed. Zachariah looked around.

"Sir, there are more boats down front. Stay with this one -" Zachariah motioned to one of the officers. "Murdoch. He seems to be quite ... practical."

Lucifer met his valet's eyes and understood. They'd run back to the room and Lucifer now had his pockets full of cash. Enough to make his own luck with.

"Find my sister, Zachariah. And my ... and Castiel. Find them!" Lucifer snarled.

Dean and Sam spilled out onto the deck. Dean looked around and grabbed Castiel's hand. "C'mon, Cas!"

"Dean! The boats are gone!" Castiel cried.

Dean looked down the length of the boat. "No, there are more! C'mon !"

The group raced down the deck, weaving in and out of the crowd. It was a grim parody of Sam and Dean's earlier run to board the ship an eternity ago. Now Dean was racing down the swiftly dropping deck of the 'unsinkable' ship, holding Castiel's hand in an iron grip. Sam had Jess by the hand as well. Jo dodged between passengers with them and as she ran, strains of music drifted up from the quartet playing on the deck. Jo snorted.

"Music to drown by, Sammy ... now I know I'm in first class!" Sam gave her a broad grin. They paused at a lifeboat being quickly loaded. Unfortunately, the crowd building around it was losing control. Glancing beside him, Jessica saw Jo being buffeted about by people trying desperately to ensure their own survival. She grabbed the young girl's arm and pushed her into Sam's embrace. "Hold her, Sam or she'll be knocked over and trampled!"

Sam did as Jess asked. He caught Dean's eyes and his brother pushed back through the crowd to him. "You better check the other side, Sammy! Go on!"

Sam nodded and the brothers locked eyes.

"Jerk," Sam said softly.

"Bitch," Dean returned just as softly.

Dean looked down and kissed Jo lightly on the cheek. She threw her arms around him and squeezed hard.

"Take care o'you and your man, Dean Winchester. Yer a gentleman no matter what they say," Jo whispered in his ear.

Dean smiled and returned the hug. Then she was picked up by Sam and lifted away. Jessica was holding on tightly to Sam's belt. Dean swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and turned back to Castiel and the boat being loaded in front of him.

* * *

Zachariah looked over the milling people and finally spotted the face he was looking for – he walked up to Lucifer.

"I found him on the other side waiting for a boat ... with him."

Murdoch called out, "Any more women and children?" When he received an answer that they were all on board, he called again, "Anyone else then! Anyone!"

Lucifer turned toward the boat. It was safety. It was a no-risk solution ... all he had to do was get into the lifeboat. Murdoch met his eyes briefly and then he turned away. Lucifer cursed.

"Damn it all to hell," He said breathlessly.

Lucifer Milton did not lose. He did not give up what he saw as rightfully his – and he certainly wasn't about to lose the young beauty that was Castiel Novak to a no-name piece of refuse like Dean Winchester. No ... no he was not going to lose. Turning, Lucifer stalked off to the other side of the deck.

Zachariah cursed softly and followed his employer. Lucifer was allowing emotion to guide what should have been a simple survival and business deal. He hated when people did that.

* * *

Castiel watched the boats being loaded with weeping women and children. He suspected that many of the women knew their husbands would not survive this night. Castiel vaguely wondered if _he_ was going to survive.

"Castiel?"

Castiel and Dean spun around to see Anna standing behind them. She seemed even paler than usual, her skin had and eerie translucency to it. Castiel pulled her into his embrace.

"Anna! Where did you go? Why did you run off?"

Anna looked up at the man she had once been betrothed to – a man she had come to respect and, in her own way, love. She gently stroked Castiel's cheek.

"I am sorry I did not challenge my brother, Castiel. I am so ashamed ..." Anna said with a sob.

Castiel hugged her close and pressed a kiss into her beautiful auburn hair. "You have no need to be sorry, Anna. You were no less trapped than I was – I know that now."

"Miss Anna!" Gabriel called from behind them.

"Gabe, over here!" Castiel yelled.

The valet made his way through the press of bodies and stopped with an annoyed roll of the eyes at Castiel and his fiancee. "Honestly, ma'am, you've had me running the length of this boat ... come on, we need to get you on that boat. Sir, will you assist?" Gabriel said looking at Castiel.

Castiel looked at Dean who nodded. He knew Castiel cared about his fiancee and felt responsible for her. He didn't know the woman, but she seemed kind enough. She was certainly a beauty.

Castiel led Anna to the lifeboat and smiled as he lifted her into it. "Be safe, sweet one."

Anna clutched at Castiel's hand. "No! No, you must come with me ... Castiel, _please_."

Castiel shook his head but then he felt a familiar form pressed to him from behind. "Get in the boat, Cas."

Castiel turned to look at Dean in shock. What he saw in the hazel eyes was a depth of love he'd never imagined he would ever experience. Castiel shook his head. "I'm not leaving without you."

"No dice, angel. You have to get on that boat and you have to get on now!" Dean said, each word tasting like ash in his mouth. He did not want to let Castiel go, but he couldn't let him stay just for him. He _wouldn't_ let him stay for just him.

"No, Dean," Castiel said stubbornly, his lips tightly pursed.

"Get in the boat, Cas," Dean growled. He pushed Castiel back toward the railing. Castiel pushed back, but Dean was stronger.

"Yes," Came a smooth voice from behind Dean. "Get on the boat, Castiel."

Dean and Castiel turned to see Lucifer standing there, a stricken expression on his face. Castiel was in shock. He felt trapped again ... frozen in place by those cold blue eyes.

"Look at you," Lucifer fussed. "You look a fright. Here, put this on," Lucifer manhandled Castiel into his large overcoat. He went to stroke Castiel's hair when Dean pulled the young man away.

"You need to go now, Cas. I'll get the next one." Dean said urgently.

Castiel could not understand why Dean wasn't _listening_ to him. "No. _Not without you_."

"Cas ... listen. I'll be alright – I will. I'll be fine. I'm a survivor, all right? Don't worry about me." Dean said. They were hard words to say looking into his lover's beautiful eyes.

Lucifer leaned in close to Castiel. "I have an arrangement with an officer on the other side of the ship. Dean and I can get off safely – both of us."

Dean had no illusions that Lucifer was lying, but he had no choice if he was going to persuade Castiel. "See? I got my own boat to catch."

"Hurry, sir!" Gabriel said, grabbing Castiel's arm. "They're almost full."

Castiel pulled against Gabriel, but the valet would not be moved. He looked at the officer loading the boat as the man moved to block them. Gabriel shoved him aside and all but tossed Castiel into the boat next to Anna. "Go with her, sir. Keep her safe."

Castiel turned back and reached his hand out to Dean, who grabbed it and squeezed tightly. He was forced to release Castiel's hand as the officer shouted, "Lower away!"

Huddled with Anna, Castiel watched as Dean drew farther away from him. He could not take his eyes from the young man he'd fallen so desperately in love with.

Dean stood looking at Castiel with a calm, almost serene expression. His angel was safe and that was all that mattered. He hoped Sammy had managed to get Jessica and Jo safely off. He wished he'd met Castiel somewhere other than here, but he scoffed at that idea almost immediately. Here was the only place where he and Castiel could created the love they had for one another.

Lucifer stood next to Dean at the rail. "You're a good liar, Winchester."

Without taking his gaze off Castiel, Dean said, "Almost as good as you ... there's no 'arrangement', is there?"

"No, there is," Lucifer said smugly. "Not that you'll benefit much from it."

Dean glanced over at Lucifer.

"I always win, Dean – one way or another."

Dean sighed. It didn't really surprise him – Lucifer was a man with no honor. Looking back out at the lifeboat, he smiled to see Castiel staring at every little aspect of the boat and the pulleys. Dean hoped he never lost that need to _know_. Castiel's head turned and they were locked again in a timeless stare. Dean nodded gently, trying to reassure Castiel that it really would be alright.

Castiel watched Dean's face as the boat continued inexorably down to the black water below. He remembered everything about their relationship from the minute Dean had saved him until now. He remembered the feeling of holding Dean in his arms and whispering his love to him and hearing it returned. He remembered the press of Dean's lips against his own. Castiel felt a small, cold hand press against his cheek. He looked down to see Anna.

"Go, Castiel. Be with him and may God watch over you both."

"Anna ... I -"

"Go on before you lose your chance," Anna said, pushing him lightly.

Castiel kissed Anna briefly and then he was pushing across the lifeboat toward the side closest the ship. Dean looked down in horror.

" _CAS_!"

* * *

Castiel leapt from the lifeboat to the railing of the ship. He fought to get purchase on the slick metal plates of the vessel, but he couldn't. His hands were beginning to slip, when another pair of hands was there, pulling him over the railing. Sam Winchester hauled Castiel over the railing. Castiel took in Sam's drawn and haunted expression and made a decision.  Grabbing the younger Winchester by the lapels of his coat, Castiel used his body weight to pull Sam off-balance and throw him over the railing. Sam tumbled down, twisting in mid-air and managing, somehow, to catch the edge of the lifeboat. 

Screams echoed up to Castiel from the boat as it was jerked hard to one side by Sam's weight.  He saw arms grasping at Sam and sent up a heartfelt prayer that the young man would be safe.  He turned and ran toward the only person on the ship he wanted to be with right now.  Dean.

* * *

Sam was caught off-guard when Castiel none-too-gently threw him over the railing.  At first, he was somewhat glad considering what he'd seen only moments before stumbling to the other side of the deck and hearing the screams from the rail.  Sam wanted to die.  But his will to live -- ingrained in him by an older brother who never gave up -- made him stretch his long arms to the lifeboat as he hurtled downward.  When his hands actually made contact with the boat, he held on for dear life.  Hands, delicate hands never meant for hard work grabbed him and he was pulled into the lifeboat to collapse at their feet.  The boat made contact with the water and the officer on board began to row out away from Titanic.  Sam managed to sit up and sat next to a lovely red-haired woman.   He could only stare at the bottom of the boat and contemplate just jumping out again into the frigid water.

The woman put a gloved hand over Sam's.  He looked at her.  "You have been given a chance -- Castiel _gave_ you a chance.  Do not waste it."

"Jessica ... Dean -- oh god, _Dean_ ..." Sam said, sudden anguish leaking out in his voice.  Memory overwhelmed Sam again.

_As they stood, trying to reach the lifeboat, the officer in charge of the boat had brandished a gun forcing the crowd back.  Sam had been at the front, Jessica pressed tightly against him.  Jo had been lost in the crowd but once Jessica was safe, Sam intended to go find her.  He blinked as a tall man with dark-blonde hair and ice blue eyes approached the front of the crowd.  The officer pointed the pistol at him._

_"Damn you man, we had a deal!" The blonde man demanded._

_The officer snorted and threw a handful of money at the man.  Sam blinked -- enough money to start an entire new life in America and all of it useless if they died in the freezing water.  The crowd surged and Jessica was shoved forward.  Without thinking, the officer fired and Jessica went down._

_"NO!  JESS!" Sam screamed, cradling her against him._

_The red blossom spread across her torso faster than Sam could even begin to staunch.  He sobbed her name even as her eyes went dim and lifeless._

"Dean is your brother?" Anna asked.  Sam blinked for a moment and then nodded.

"He has captured the love of the man who was to be my fiancee.  That must mean he is very special because Castiel is a very special man himself," Anna said softly.

Sam stared at her.  "You have lost someone important to you but you cannot let that cripple you -- my fiancee went back on that ship for _your_ brother.  You must live now for the life that was gifted to you."

Sam nodded looking at the huge ship that was beginning to recede into the distance.  From afar, it was terrifying to see how fast the massive liner had sunk.  Sam stood and moved into position to help with the rowing.  Anna gave him a gentle smile and Sam nodded.  No matter what happened to his brother and Castiel ... Sam would survive.

* * *

"Cas! What are you doing?" Dean cried as he watched his love throw himself to the railing. He saw Castiel pulled over the rail and he uselessly cried,"No!" Then he was running to reach him.  He did not see Sam go flying back over the rail nor get pulled into the lifeboat.

Castiel ran around people, searching desperately for the one face he wanted to see above all others. He raced into the lobby of the grand staircase and was met by Dean as the elder Winchester took the stairs down two at a time. They crashed together at the bottom, arms wrapped so tightly around each other, Castiel felt his ribs creak.

"Cas!" Dean said, pressing kisses feverishly along Castiel's forehead and then to his lips. "You are so stupid!" Another kiss. "Why'd you do that?!" Another kiss. "You're so stupid, Cas!" Harder kisses. "Why did you do that? Why?"

Castiel pulled back and looked into Dean's hazel-green eyes. "You jump, I jump ... right?"

Dean stared in disbelief at this man who'd given up life and safety just to be with him. He grinned. "Right, Cas ... right." He kissed Castiel again and then hugged him close.

"I couldn't go, Dean! I just couldn't go, Dean!" Cas said desperately.

"It's alright," Dean said. "We'll think of something."

"I'm with you, Dean. That's all that matters." Castiel said, pressing his lips against Dean's again and not caring who saw.

From above them on the balcony, Lucifer watched the lovers reunite and heard their heartfelt declarations of love. His heart was clenched in a vise of his own making. Zachariah saw what had happened and pulled on his employer's arm, urging him back to the lifeboats and safety. Lucifer stumbled along for a few steps but then a lunatic light flared in his eyes. Reaching to the holster he knew Zachariah wore at all times, Lucifer grabbed the man's gun and spun back to the lovers. He did not lose. Lucifer Milton did not _ever_ lose.

Dean saw the movement over Castiel's shoulder and suddenly he was running, pulling Castiel along with him as one of the large finials on the staircase banisters exploded behind them. Another shot rang out but Dean just kept running. Down the staircases they raced, flinching as shot after shot splintered the wood rails. Dean did not lose his hold on Castiel's hand. They reached the bottom dining area which was well on its way to being submerged. Dean jerked Castiel forward into the water.

"Come on, Cas ... GO!"

Dean flinched again as the water next to him sprayed up. Lucifer had run into the water after them and was pulling off shot after shot. Dean ran through a far door, hearing Castiel yelp as the glass in the door next to him cracked.

Lucifer emptied the clip trying to hit the escaping lovers. He could not lose! He could not! He shouted, "I hope you enjoy what little time you have together!"

About that time, Lucifer realized he was standing waist deep in cold water. The shock brought him out of his fury and he looked around himself as if remembering that he was on a ship that was sinking. Lucifer slogged out of the water toward the dry area where his valet was waiting with a deeply annoyed expression on his face. He paused as he reached the top, turning back to look at the path the retreating lovers had taken. A smirk crossed his face and then he was laughing.

"What could possibly be funny?" Zachariah asked.

Lucifer looked up with mirth etched on his face. "I put the diamond in the coat!" At Zachariah's blank look, he said, "I put the coat on _him_!"

* * *

Dean's grip on Castiel's hand had never slackened. Together they ran through the dining area on a deck that was beginning to slope precariously. Running to the butler's pantry, Dean kept urging Castiel on. They ducked down a stairwell and waited, straining to hear any sound that might indicate Lucifer was coming. As they stood, a faint wailing filled the air. Dean frowned and together, he and Castiel peered around the corner at the bottom of the stairwell.

A small boy stood, crying out as he watched the water rising around him. Dean blinked. Castiel looked at his lover.

"Dean, we can't leave him."

Dean looked back up the stairwell. Water was beginning to waterfall down the steps. He sighed. "Alright, come on!"

Together, he and Castiel raced down the waterlogged hallway to the boy. Dean grabbed the boy and tucked his head against his chest while the child wailed in fear. Castiel looked up where two locked doors were beginning to creak ominously at the water pressing against them on the other side. Dean turned and they ran the other direction only to be met by a cascade of water. Trapped, Dean paused trying to determine what to do when suddenly a large man ran down the hallway screaming in a foreign language. He grabbed the boy and pushed Dean roughly against the wall.

Castiel and Dean began to shout at the same time. "No! That's the wrong way!"

The man reached the end of the hallway about the time the doors gave way. Dean turned and shoved Castiel in front of him as a wave of water crashed down the hall. They turned off into a side corridor and Castiel ran as hard as he could with Dean's voice echoing behind him.

"Go, Cas! GO!"

All sound disappeared in a roar as another wave surged behind them and swept both Dean and Castiel off their feet. The last thing Castiel heard was Dean's frantic cry of " _CAAASS!"_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have words to say how sorry I am that this one has languished out there in the black. I hope there are still subscribers enough to remember where I left off. Hopefully only one or two more chapters before I finish this out.

Castiel tried to keep Dean in sight as the surging water carried them along to the end of the hallway. He grunted when he fetched up against one of the iron gates. Dean slammed into it a moment later. Dean turned and tugged on Castiel's jacket to signal him to follow.

Clawing at whatever ridge he could reach on the wood paneled walls, Dean fought his way against the pressing weight of the water's current. It was like walking in hip deep snow. Every step took an enormous amount of effort for not much progress. At last, Dean was able to reach up and grab onto the piping that lined the ceiling which was quickly getting closer as the water level rose. He reached out and pulled Castiel to him so that his lover could also take hold of the pipes. Together, they made their way back to a stairwell and braced each other until they could climb out of the water's pull.

At the top of the stairwell was another hated iron gate. Castiel slammed his hands against it in frustration. Dean tugged but to no avail. The water behind them continued to rise.

“Help!” Castiel yelled.

“Help us!” Dean echoed.

A crewman, running down the hallway turned to go up the staircase directly across from them. He spared them only a glance until Dean called out, “Sir! Please ... open the gate!”

The man seemed to be prepared to ignore them, but then he halted and turned with a muttered, “Bloody hell!”

Pulling out a ring of keys, he fumbled through them, trying to find the correct one. Dean and Castiel gripped the gate feeling water creeping up their legs. The man's hands shook with fear and cold.

“Please,” Castiel said urgently. “Please hurry ...”

Dean was less polite. “Come on! Come on! Go!”

The man fumbled through the keys but then he dropped them. Dean had a glimpse of them as they tumbled through the air and plopped into the foaming water. The crewman looked up with a stricken expression. “I’m sorry! I dropped the keys!”

Castiel met the man’s eyes and saw nothing but blank terror. He reached out but the man pulled away and scrambled across the hall to the staircase on the other side. Castiel called out in disbelief.

“Don’t leave! Please, send for help!”

Somehow, he knew he would never see the man again on this side of Heaven. Castiel heard a splash and turned to see Dean disappear beneath the surface of the churning water. He shook in the cold water, struggling to keep his footing as the water flowed in creating more and more pressure. Castiel’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited helplessly for Dean to surface.

Below the churning water’s top layer, Dean forced himself to the decking and the almost peaceful, muted sound of water moving around him. The lights cast a soft green glow all around, creating an ethereal scene. Dean’s lungs burned, reminding him that in this literal sea of green lay death if he could not locate the keys. He stretched his arm through a gap in the gating, desperately trying to see a glimpse of the metal keys. He finally caught sight of them but his hands were so cold it was difficult to force them to do the necessary simple movements to pick up them up. With a frown, Dean made his hand close and it captured the chain within his palm. He surfaced, exhaling sharply.

Shoving the keys into Castiel’s hands, Dean stammered, “Cas! Here! Which one is it?”

Castiel took them and began working a short one into the lock. He fumbled and feared he would drop the keys again. A dark frown crossed the young man’s face – one familiar to his brothers as indicating Castiel was digging his heels in on a matter and would not be swayed until he had the outcome he desired. The youngest Novak forced himself to focus.

Dean could almost feel the determination radiating from his love even as he urged Castiel with desperate whispers. If their lives had not been in such peril, Dean would have kissed Castiel. Dean could see the fire he’d always known existed in the dark haired man flare into life – if they survived this night, it would never be easily extinguished. Castiel Novak was a force to be reckoned with and the look on his face told Dean his lover would not quit until he’d either snapped the key off or gotten the gate open. A metallic clang told Dean it was going to be the latter and he found himself stupidly relieved by that.

Pulling the gate open, Dean shoved Castiel through the small gap as the water swiftly rose to the top of the hallway. Again using the pipes overhead, Castiel pulled himself into the stairwell and turned back, his hand outstretched. Dean’s cold digits closed over his own and Castiel pulled Dean to him.

“Come on, Cas … move! Move! Mo-“

Dean’s voice cut off as Castiel pressed chill lips to his. No words were spoken as they looked at each other, green eyes lost in blue. A short nod and both men raced up the stairwell leading to the upper decks and a chance at life. Dean’s grip on Castiel’s hand was fierce but so was the return grip. As they darted around furniture beginning to slide down the growing incline of the ship, Castiel pulled up short.

“Wait, Dean! Mr. Andrews!” Castiel cried.

The architect with the gentle expression looked at Castiel and blinked owlishly, returning from whatever far-away thoughts to recognize the young man.

“Oh … Castiel,” he said softly.

“Sir … won’t you even make a try for it?” Castiel asked anxiously.

The man’s face merely looked sad, as if he were discussing a picnic put out by unexpected rain instead of the ‘unsinkable’ _Titanic_ heading to the bottom of the ocean. He sighed.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t build you a stronger ship, young Castiel.”

Dean looked through the doors leading toward the main deck and gauged the tilt of the floor. He moved to Castiel’s side.

“Cas, it’s going fast …we’ve got to move.”

Mr. Andrews seemed to shake himself clear at Dean’s words. He reached over and picked up his discarded life preserver, pushing it into Castiel’s hands.

“Good luck to you, Castiel,” Andrews said softly.

Castiel took the vest and slid it over his head. He looked sadly at the man who’d created the magnificent vessel beneath them. Its loss had broken the man before him. Castiel suddenly felt that this was indeed a fitting place for Mr. Andrews to be in his last moments … with his lady. Castiel hugged the architect tightly.

“Luck to you as well, Mr. Andrews. She was a fine ship.”

Dean glanced back at Andrews as they fled to higher ground. He nodded once, knowing he would never see the man this side of Heaven. Holding onto Castiel’s hand, he led his lover into the throng of humanity surging for the steadily rising stern.

“We have to stay on the boat as long as possible, Cas … come on!”

Castiel followed Dean, fighting to keep the elder Winchester in view. He could hear screams all around him as people leapt from the vessel or were lost within its depths. He climbed over a railing, Castiel right behind him. Others, following his path, stumbled into Castiel, knocking the young man to the main deck.

“Dean!”

Castiel’s head swung from one side to the other, trying to find the familiar face, his heart hammering. Dean came up beside him, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. Castiel grunted as they fought against the press of bodies trying to push them in several different directions at once. Grabbing Castiel, Dean shoved him forward, guiding him onto a staircase. A man, lost in the face of his own mortality, was reciting the 23rd Psalm as he took each step carefully and laboriously.

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death –“

Dean bodily pushed the man to one side, making a space for Castiel to move past. “Yeah, yeah … let’s walk through that valley a little faster, ok pal?”

Castiel spared the man a glance as they raced by. He knew the end for the ship was coming quickly, he could feel the press of gravity as he and Dean moved ever onward. Castiel’s eyes widened as they reached a group of people clinging to the rope guides along the deck listening to a priest reciting Bible verses. He wondered if he should be making his own peace with his maker.

Dean jerked Castiel’s arm hard as he fought to keep his footing on the deck. His lover crashed into him as Dean grabbed hold of the stern railing beside the flag pole. Castiel gripped the rail with one hand and Dean with the other. Dean pressed his mouth against Castiel’s ear to ensure he was heard over the din around them.

“Don’t quit on me, Cas angel. Don’t start sayin’ your prayers and giving your soul to God just yet because I’m not done with you _here_ on _Earth_. You understand me?”

Castiel leaned back and stared into the green eyes. He nodded, his own eyes wide. Castiel’s eyes went up and suddenly he realized where Fate had brought them.

“Dean! This is … this is where we first met.”

Dean looked around and pulled Castiel tighter against him. He pressed kiss after kiss to forehead just beneath the tousled dark hair.

“Then you do what I say, Cas. You don’t give up. God’s gonna have to pry you out of my cold dead hand, angel. I’m not lettin’ you go so easy.”

“If you are gone, Dean, then I will want to go as well. No matter what, Dean … I will not leave you tonight. Where you go, I go.”

Dean kissed Castiel deeply as the lights suddenly disappeared and the cold Atlantic night fell over them. Dean shook with the depth of his love for Castiel.

“I love you, angel. I’ll never love anyone like you again, Cas.”

Castiel returned the kiss, all concern about decorum and whether or not he was destined to Hell for this love between men dissipated. He kissed Dean with everything he had and screamed into his lover’s mouth as the ship suddenly fell beneath them. Dean’s scream echoed his own as the stern slammed into the water and then began a slow, inexorable climb upright again.

Dean looked around him as he clung desperately to the railing. As he stared below them, Dean realized what had happened. The ship’s weight had snapped it in two as the bow became too heavy to support. Now, as the bow sank, its weight would pull them upright again. He suddenly saw their only chance for survival. Releasing Castiel, Dean swiftly climbed up and over the railing. He didn’t look down at the water, he only looked at Castiel.

“Come on, Cas! We have to move! Give me your hand, I’ll pull you over!” Dean shouted.

Castiel did not stop to think, he simply gripped Dean’s hand and stretched to pull himself over the rail where he found himself crouching. It was impossible to believe but the stern was completely upright in the water. It was as if he were standing on the roof a very tall building looking down. His eyes watered as he watched people who had been somewhat secure moments ago suddenly lose their grip as they were forced to hold up their entire body weight. The frigid air made hands stiff and weak. Castiel groaned as scream after scream echoed around him as people plummeted to their deaths as surely as if they had jumped off a skyscraper. It was a horrific sight he knew he would never forget. Assuming he survived.

“Dean …”

“I’m here with you, angel. I’ve got you. I love you so much, Cas,” Dean murmured. He was positioned just behind Cas, bracketing the other man with his arms on either side of Castiel’s. “You saved my baby brother, Cas. Thank you so much for that … thank you so much for that.”

Castiel turned and looked at Dean. “It was the least I could do, Dean … after all, _you_ saved _me._ I love you. I don’t care if we burn in Hell. I’ll never stop saying it for anyone to hear. I love you.”

The kiss was brief. Dean felt the stern shift beneath them and he swallowed hard.

“Cas, baby, listen to me. This is it … we’re about to take a fast trip down and the ship is going to suck us right under. But you hang on and you take the deepest breath you can when I say. You use those swimmer’s legs and you kick. You kick as hard as you can and you don’t stop. You don’t let go of my hand, you hear me? You don’t let go!”

Castiel heard Dean’s voice and he nodded. He was terrified as the water drew ever closer but Dean pressed ever closer and continued talking.

“Don’t you give up, angel. We’re gonna make it. Trust me.”

Castiel looked at Dean and smiled. “I trust you, Dean. I love you.”

Dean pressed a kiss against his lover’s face again and then looked back at the black water just beneath them now. He watched, mentally ticking off the distance as he waited. And just when the water splashed him fully, Dean shouted.

“ _NOW, CAS!”_

Castiel sucked in the deepest breath of air that he could and the water closed over them.


End file.
